


Companion Creature

by Chaotic_Inspiration



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, Good Parent Angella (She-Ra), Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Injury, Injury Recovery, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Non-Explicit, Not Canon Compliant, Poor Catra (She-Ra), Pre-Canon, Self-Doubt, Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra)'s A+ Parenting, Swearing, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:41:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 41,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26882320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaotic_Inspiration/pseuds/Chaotic_Inspiration
Summary: Catra is pulled from her bed in the middle of the night by Shadow Weaver to aid in the recovery of an injured Force Captain. Unfortunately, between Shadow Weavers cruelty and not being a healer there are only so many ways a magicat can help out.---Catra is effectively a hospital cat used by Shadow Weaver to help select officers have a more comfortable recovery. It's not a position she wants to have, especially given the morality of the Horde. The stress comes to be to great for her to handle.Minor Explicit Content in chapters 4 and 9
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Catra/Scorpia (She-Ra)
Comments: 92
Kudos: 441
Collections: Catradora, dianatyrbo she-ra





	1. Do your job

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Dubious consent, Minor explicit content, Implied suicidal thoughts, and hella drama.
> 
> I try to leave most of the darker content to references and implications, but there are a few times were they do come up. Chapters 4 and 9 in particular. 
> 
> I'm sorry for being mean to a female character, Catra really deserves better in life.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra is awoken in the middle of the night to 'attend' to a 'patient' and is initially relieved to find a chipper scorpioni waiting for her in the infirmary. Of course, given the nature of her work, the late hour, and what Shadow Weaver is likely to do to her if she does a poor job of comforting her patient, things don't go how Catra might have hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Referenced lack of consent and uncomfortable situations.

This wasn’t the first time the witch had dragged Catra out of her bed in the middle of the night like this, and knowing her luck it wouldn’t be the last. Still, Catra would be lying if she said that her first instinct hadn’t been to panic. It was only the threat of magic and the painfully familiar feeling of those thin, bony fingers gripping the nape of her neck that stopped Catra from screaming her lungs out for Adora or making a break for the vents. 

After only a few turns Catra realized that their destination wasn’t the Black Garnet chamber tonight. That was a relief to be sure, but at the same time a pit started to form in Catra’s stomach. There was only one other place Shadow Weaver would be taking her to like this, uninformed and unprovoked, and while it was certainly less painful that the Black Garnet chamber she almost hated the sight of it more in some ways. 

Sure enough, the doorway to the infirmary appeared down the hallway after one last turn. It was by no means a common occurrence for Shadow Weaver to have Catra perform this ‘duty’, Shadow Weaver simply didn’t care about enough people in the Horde to make it a common occurrence, but it cost the witch nothing to use her like this and it helped her secure the loyalty of some of the more ‘understanding’ officers. The only silver lining in all of this was the lack of spectators to mock her or smirk those horrible, knowing smirks at her as she was marched down these long Fight Zone hallways. At least this horrible hour of the morning had that going for it. 

By the time the pair arrived at the infirmary proper Catra’s heart had slowed down to it’s usual languid pace as resignation and her strategic mind took over. There was no way out of it, she’d just have to do the job. 

The infirmary itself was near empty, with only a large, well-built scorpioni woman with short cut white hair taking up one of the beds. The woman for her part looked up at Shadow Weaver with a mixture of surprise, fear, and confusion that moved almost exclusively to confusion when she noticed the magicat that the witch was practically dragging along. 

“Shadow Weaver! Ma’am! What can I-uh-” the scorpioni began.

“Enough!” Shadow Weaver snarled sharply, “I have neither the time not the desire for pleasantries this early in the morning. I am only here because Force Captain Grizzlor seems to think something of you and has _demanded_ that I aid in your recovery immediately. Is that understood Force Captain Scorpia?”

Scorpia sat up a little straighter at that, a nervous pride edging in on her face. “Oh! Wow! Uh, that’s really-”

“Quite.” Shadow Weaver cut off again, “To that end, _this_ is what you’re getting.” the witch hissed, shaking Catra in emphasis who hissed silently in response. 

The scorpioni’s eyebrows knitted together as her gaze snapped between the pair, clearing trying to process what she was being told. She opened her mouth to ask something but it seemed that Shadow Weaver wasn’t even going to give her the chance to babble this time.

“Magicats are a vile species, but at times they have been known to pass for companion creatures. The presence and close proximity of one is said to aid in both physical recovery and comfort, especially when they purr.”

“ _This one_ ,” she snarled, pushing Catra a half-step forwards, “will act as your companion for the duration of your recovery. She has explicit orders to follow **all** of your instructions, and she has done this enough times before to know not to cause trouble. That said, if she sets one _hair_ out of line do not hesitate to send for me for _correction_. Is that all understood?”

Scorpia could practically feel the venom soaking each of Shadow Weavers words and had the presence of mind to bark out a quick “Yes, Shadow Weaver” before the witch’s currently non-existent patience could run out for a fourth time. 

With one last cross between a growl and a hiss, Shadow Waver finally released Catra, shoving her the rest of the way to the infirmary bed before turning around and silently floating back out of the room. 

For a few moments the room was only filled with the slightly strained breathing of the magicat as one of her hands darted to the back of her neck to rub down the roughed up fur there, feeling where the witch’s bony finger had pinched and nearly caused bruises. After a moment Catra’s eyes flicked up to meet Scorpia’s and she was reminded that she had a job to do. Breaking the eye contact with a half-suppressed scowl Catra turned her head to the side, closed her eyes, and took a few deep breaths. She hated this. She hated being reduced to an object by Shadow Weaver and she hated being a comfort slave to the officers that passed through here. But, as much as she hated it, her hatred could never compare to the deep, horrible emptiness that filled her guts as Adora’s face flashed through her mind. The one person she genuinely wanted to comfort, to maybe even share some intimacy with. But she couldn’t be with her. She had to be with whatever brute Shadow Weaver needed a favour from. And it always hurt. 

Catra removed her hand from her neck and took one last deep breath, getting into character. She pushed down the feeling of exhaustion from being awoken so early and her endless frustrations of being trapped in this position. When she opened her eyes again her face was a mask of semi-professional softness, one carefully balanced to not be off-putting for the cruelty accustomed officers of the Fright Zone.

Scorpia just stared at the magicat for a few moments longer before finally breaking the short silence. 

“So, uh, when Shadow Weaver says things like ‘companion’ and ‘proximity’ does she mean, uh...” 

“I have orders to provide you with whatever comfort you want. Whether that means physical intimacy or anything further is up to you, but before we begin I need to take a look at the wound.”

“Oh,” Scorpia blinked, “Why’s that?”

“If I am going to be in close proximity with you I’ll need to do so in a way that avoids agitating your injury. In order to do that I have to know the full extent of the injury first.”

Scorpia cracked a nervous smile at that and blushed, “Oh, yeah, sure, makes sense, uh, it’s just that I uh...” she stammered, pulling the covers a bit further over herself with a pincer. 

Catra could guess what she was trying to say and reached a hand under the covers, resting it against the skin of the woman’s leg. 

“It’s nothing either of us haven’t experienced before in the locker rooms.” she assured.

Now blushing profusely, Scorpia could only nod her head which was now half hidden behind the blanket she was holding up in front of her face. 

Catra couldn’t help but crack a smirk at that, silently relieved at the woman’s bashfulness. With any luck she could go the entire recovery period banking on that. Gingerly, Catra peeled away the covers on Scorpia’s injured side, revealing her fully-naked body. The scorpioni was indeed quite well built, her muscles plain as day even in the terrible, green-tinted infirmary lighting, but that wasn’t what Catra was focused on. Instead, she focused on the long cut that traced down the scorpioni’s side, deepening as it moved from her ribs to her her gut.

“That’s quite the cut you got there.” Catra mused.

“Sileanian sabre.” Scorpia stammered, still blushing quite heavily, “Those sailors really don’t mess around.

Catra hummed at that and, carefully, reached out with the backs of a pair of claws, gently touching the skin on either side of the wound near the top.

“Does that hurt?”

“Huh?”

“The wound, does that touch hurt the wound? Is it painful?” Catra drawled, her professionalism slipping as her natural impatience and the late hour threatened to catch up with her.

“Oh, no, uh, that’s, that’s fine.”

Catra’s gaze moved to the scorpioni’s face as she glided her claws down the length of the wound, watching for any signs of discomfort on the woman’s face as she traced the slash. When she reached the end of the wound without seeming to cause any pain she raised her hand and started again, this time with a little more pressure to her touch and a little less distance between her claws and the wound. The pair stared at each other silently as this process repeated over and over, Catra slowly sussing out just where and how she could and could not touch without inflicting pain. 

Nodding to herself Catra went to remove her hand only for Scorpia to snap out and catch her wrist tightly with a pincer. Catra’s eyes darted between her wrist and the scorpioni’s eyes, a rush of panic shooting down her spine at the sudden aggressiveness of her patient. 

Scorpia for her part took a second to realize what she had done, her own gaze slowly leaving the magicat’s face to where her own pincer was trapping that clawed hand at her side. 

When Scorpia didn’t say anything Catra refocused on the woman’s face, trying to read her, and immediately regretting what she found. Now that she wasn’t exclusively focused on looking for signs of pain or discomfort she could see just how into the touch Scorpia had gotten, her flush somehow deepening, her pupils wide, her breath coming out slightly shallower and faster. 

Catra very carefully did not change expressions, but inside she groaned deeply. It wasn’t terribly uncommon for Horde soldiers to grow up touch starved, but most of them found one way or another to scratch that particular itch, much as Catra and Adora did for each other. Force Captains especially could hide behind their rank to get away with such things, but every now and again you’d get one who didn’t realize just what they were missing out on until suddenly they had it. 

And Carta, unfortunately, was ‘it’. 

“I... uh... I’m sorry I don’t know why I just- I-” Scorpia began to stammer out.

“It’s alright.” Catra murmured quietly, face still carefully unmoving.

“I just- your fur- and it was-” the scorpioni continued to ramble. 

The situation was precarious on both ends. On the one hand Catra really, _really_ didn’t want to provoke any more feelings from the force captain given that she had to follow _any_ order given to her right now, but on the other hand she knew that Shadow Weaver would follow up about how she had performed, and a misstep here would mean _correction_. 

Seeing Scorpia continue to spiral and ramble, Catra made a snap decision and slowly raised her free hand until it snaked underneath the covers of the bed and came to rest it’s soft fur against the scorpioni’s belly. 

Scorpia’s nervous energy suddenly cut off with a gasp and she squeezed Catra’s captured wrist even tighter for a moment as a never before experienced warmth began to flood through her body. 

“It’s alright.” Catra repeated quietly. 

Scorpia was beyond lost with herself at this point. She’d never hurt a fellow soldier like this but for the life of her she just couldn’t bring herself to let go of the magicat’s wrist. And the sensation that she’d felt when that other hand had landed on her belly! It was out of this world! She had to have more of that!

Catra waited for a minute, silently begging for the hospitalized force captain to snap out of it, and wilting internally when no such thing happened. Her wrist was getting sore at this point and gently rubbing the woman’s belly was having no further effect. She’d have to take this a step further if she wanted to break the stalemate without upsetting the woman. 

Moving slowly, -though there was no doubt in her mind that this was ‘all happening too fast’ in the force captain’s mind- Catra climbed onto the edge of the bed and brought her own body fully under the covers so that she was holding herself just barely on-top of the scorpioni, careful to avoid her injured side. 

Something desperate snapped inside of Scorpia and she finally released Catra’s wrist, but any relief Catra might have felt at this was instantly undercut by a pair of pincered arms wrapping around her back and pulling her closer in on-top of Scorpia. 

Catra had to fight to keep her fur from bristling as the scorpioni locked her down with a crushing grip, leaving nothing but Catra’s meager undergarments between their two bodies. Positioning had suddenly become very important and Catra desperately manoeuvred to keep herself away from any sensitive areas, her left arm held away from the woman’s injury and her legs straining not to collapse against Scorpia’s inner thighs. Unfortunately there was nothing she could do about her head which was stuck against the scorpioni’s quite full chest, listening to the woman’s manic heart beat. 

When she was sure that the force captain wasn’t going to pull any more surprises on her, Catra quietly began to build up a rumble in her chest, allowing it to flow out through her body and into the one beneath her. The situation had escalated certainly, but with any luck she could lull the injured woman to sleep before the scorpioni could regain enough of her sense to take things a step further. Then maybe, just maybe, she could slink out of here and back into bed with Adora. 

The purring almost seemed to do it’s job too well as Scorpia began to shiver and tremble beneath her, gasps and quiet noises flowing out of the force captain as she struggled to savour every little sensation that was being passed to her by the magicat. Every inch of touch, every fraction of vibration, it was all electrifying, a high she never wanted to let go of. 

It was not too long at all before Scorpia’s eyes began to dull and become half-lidded, all tension seeming to flow out of her aching muscles and the screaming of her nerves dying down to nothing at all under the influence of the magicat’s ministrations. 

Catra waited until the woman’s eyes had drifted fully closed and then a few minutes longer before attempting to slide out from beneath the scorpioni’s grip, only to find that the arms bracing her hadn’t loosened an inch. 

“Noooo kitty.” Scorpia slurred, her eyes barely flickering open, “Stay with me... only for tonight...”

Catra sighed quietly but lowered herself back down onto the woman’s body, her forced purrs resuming slowly. Well, it hadn’t gone exactly as planned but it was still far from what she had dreaded would happen on the march to the infirmary, and as pathetic as her dignity was at the moment at least she was the one on top this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is a lot less uncomfortable and a decent amount better written.


	2. The Light of Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately for all parties involved, last night had actually happened, and given just how deep Scorpia's wound is it's not likely that she'll get out of the infirmary, or having a companion, any time soon. Maybe things won't be so bad?
> 
> Things are probably gonna be bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I originally had intended for this story to be a one-shot but apparently my brain wasn't content with leaving it where the first chapter left off. 
> 
> I honestly have no idea how far I am going to go with this but we're on the roller-coaster now so let's find out. 
> 
> No TW for this chapter unless you count drama and misunderstandings.

It was somehow both too easy and too hard for Catra to remain tense throughout the rest of the night. At some point the automatic lights had clicked off, leaving only a dim red ‘02:16’ where the clock hung in the corner of the infirmary. Catra was tired, and sore, and wanted to go to bed, her bed, maybe Adora’s if she could find a comfortable spot without too much contact. It was hard at the best of times to stay in character, to pretend that she didn’t mind touching and being touched like this, her body so very exposed to her patients. She just wanted it all to stop. She wanted to wrap herself in a nest of blankets and scrunch into a cubby or something.

She shifted slightly, trying to adjust how the pincers laid against her back without waking Scorpia, her gaze focusing on the scorpioni as she did. 

Force Captain Scorpia. Polite, upbeat, loose with regulations, more than a bit awkward, bashful, touch starved, and slow to process things. Honestly, a pretty lucky draw, their current position not included. Either the woman would acclimate by morning, which would be a problem, or she’d panic and apologize profusely, which would be manageable. Still, the cut along Scorpia’s side would keep her in the infirmary for at least a week, Catra would need to plan farther ahead than just the morning if she wanted to be safe. 

Her gaze flicked back to the clock. 

‘02:18’ 

Closing her eyes, Catra took a deep breath and sighed through her nose. It was going to be a long night.

Her fatigue would eventually catch up with her, and Catra drifted to sleep off with images of a certain blond cadet floating through her mind.

\---

One of the nice things about the infirmary was the lack of a morning alarm, the injured not exactly being able to keep a tight schedule about healing. Of course this also had the side effect of letting all those in the infirmary wake up at their own pace. As such, by the time Catra finally cracked open an eye Scorpia had been lying petrified beneath her for what had felt like an eternity. 

Petrified really was the only appropriate word for it. Scorpia had woken up somewhat bemused with the strange, comforting weight on her chest, only to look down and have what felt like all her sins laid bare before her. She’d pulled a cadet into bed with her! Well no, that wasn’t strictly true, the magicat had crawled under the covers herself, but only to appease Scorpia’s iron grip! And now she was holding the cadet tightly against her! Her pincers literally still locked behind the girls sleeping back!

Scorpia’s mind filled with incoherent screaming as she felt every muscle in her body lock up in panic. She was histories greatest monster! She was the most evil person in the Fright Zone! She was naked with another girl on top of her!

That last one made her blush so hard that for a second she thought her head might explode. She’d always been a hugger, world famous even, but this was so far beyond that! Just something about the way the magicat’s hand had ghosted along her side, and then the feeling of that soft fur on her belly! It had driven her crazy! Oh geez, Shadow Weaver was going to-!

Scorpia’s thoughts abruptly cut off there as the witches words echoed in her mind. 

_“This one will act as your companion for the duration of your recovery.”_

_“She has done this enough times before.”_

_“She has explicit orders to follow **all** of your instructions.”_

A chill ran up the scorpioni’s exoskeleton. Was... was this what was supposed to happen? Was this what Shadow Weaver had meant? The magicat’s own words rang in her ears. 

_“I have orders to provide you with whatever comfort you want.”_

_“It’s alright.”_

That... that couldn’t be right, could it? Did the Horde really do this kind of thing?

All at once Scorpia became aware that someone was watching her, and sure enough, looking down her gaze was met with the magicat’s open eye. Instantly her arms flew from the cadets back, hanging in the air awkwardly. 

“I- I am really sorry about the whole pincer thing-!” she began.

“It’s alright.” the magicat repeated, somewhat less stiffly this time. 

“No! I mean I-”

“It’s alright.” Catra repeated again, stretching out and purring as she did, “I’m here to comfort you, whatever you need, whatever you want, up until your recovery.”

Scorpia blinked, her throat suddenly having gone very dry. The cadet kept saying that, but surely it couldn’t be because- well- it just couldn’t! 

“Still, I- uh- your wrist! I shouldn’t have- uh...” Scorpia petered out. 

Scorpia wasn’t the best at reading people, or situations, or really whatever the moons this was, but while the magicat had seemed a bit nervous herself last night, especially after Scorpia had grabbed her, she sounded a lot more self-assured now. Those mismatched eyes that had been assessing her pain or waiting for a response were now calm and open. Not quite unguarded, but not hunting for subtle hints of hostility either. Scorpia swallowed. 

“C-could you uhhh, could you get me some clothes?”

\---

Catra was relieved to finally be allowed to peel herself off the scorpioni. True to assessment Scorpia had clammed all the way up and would hopefully avoid any further intimacy out of sheer embarrassment. Still, she’d have to work out a way for the Force Captain to give her a glowing review to Shadow Weaver, but after the previous night she would take her victories where she could get them.

Fortunately for Catra, she had a lot of experience sneaking across the Fright Zone, though usually not in her sleep wear. Between the clinking of armoured boots on metal floors, the idle conversations of bored soldiers, and her own enhanced senses she was able to make it all the way the the laundry depot without being seen. 

Throwing on a generic Horde uniform instead of her personalized suit, the magicat was just reaching for the a plus-size uniform for Scorpia when a familiar voice cut her off.

“Catra!”

She spun around instantly, hands snapping behind her back as if caught. 

“Hey Adora.” She drawled, praying to any powers listening in that her face was it’s usual smooth mask.

The blond practically charged her, hands clenched, eyes running her up and down in worry.

“Why weren’t you in the barracks last night? And what’s with the outfit?”

“Shadow Weaver pulled me in for medical duty this morning, bad suturing from one of the other medics, had to change into something not covered in fish-person blood. The usual.” she lied casually. 

Adora softened at that, her worry dissolving into a proud relief that somehow both warmed Catra’s heart and laced her throat with bitterness. 

“I was so worried when the morning alarm went off and you weren’t there.” she breathed, then brightened, “Shadow Weaver already has you cleaning up after the other medics! I told you she’d recognize your ability!”

“Yeah,” Catra replied a bit rougher than she meant to, “she said I might even pass for something with only a few mean qualifiers first.”

Adora took one of Catra’s hands between her own, held it up between them, and squeezed, her face still so damn soft and proud.

“I know it wasn’t exactly your first choice of specialization... or what we had always dreamed of... but Catra! Just think about what it will mean when you’re finally qualified as a medical technician! Shadow Weaver will have to recognize your value, and you’ll be able to take care of the whole squad!”

“Even,” Adora hesitated, “even me.”

Catra closed her eyes and leaned forwards so that their foreheads were touching. There was nothing that she wanted more in this world than to take care of Adora like she had too everyone else. Laying together beneath the covers in a room all their own, the touch of fur on skin, a personal warmth building between them.

Catra jerked back flushing, her hand wrenching out of Adora’s grip. 

“Somehow I don’t think Shadow Weaver ever plans on certifying me.” she growled, angry both at the witch for insisting on this charade and herself for being too weak to dispel it. 

“But you just said-”

“It won’t matter!” Carta snapped, “She’ll just keep putting it off until we’re both shipped out somewhere she won’t have to look at me.”

“Catra that’s not fair! You said it yourself, she chose you for-”

“I don’t have time for this.” she interrupted, “I still need to monitor for infection. See you around Adora.”

Catra snatched the plus-sized uniform off the rack and dashed out of the room as stormily as she could, only to almost collapse as soon as she was out of sight. 

Damn it. How could Adora be so close to her and yet so blind. How could she care for the blond so much and be unable to tell her the truth. 

_Shadow Weaver._

Catra dug her claws into the wall and forced herself to stand tall. It all came back to the witch in the end. Adora’s ignorance, her own suffering, all of it. Adora didn’t know the truth about Catra’s position in medical because Shadow Weaver didn’t want her to know, and Catra couldn’t tell Adora about what she actually did or how much it sucked because Shadow Weaver had forbidden her too. And neither of them could do a damn thing about it because the witch had the power and authority to issue her special _corrections_. But Catra would not be broken. When Adora made Force Captain they’d start running this place together, and then it would be Shadow Weaver’s turn to lie and be afraid.

\---

Scorpia was stuck thinking in circles. Shadow Weaver was the second in command and it seemed like she knew this would happen, that had it make this all okay, right? And the magicat herself had been the one to be _forward_ , right? Sorta? Okay, after the initial pincer thing, but Scorpia didn’t make her climb into bed with her! The magicat was being a ‘companion’ like Shadow Weaver said she was supposed to be, and having a companion would help her heal or something right? But if that was the case then why wasn’t this a thing covered in the medical portion of force captain orientation! Not to mention that all the rules and primers she had read had been none too subtle about avoiding fraternization, and she had to imagine that went double for between patients and medical staff! Was the magicat medical staff? Maybe it wasn’t a listed thing because the Horde only had the one magicat? Maybe this whole thing was like how the Horde handled the very strong painkillers and a companion had to be prescribed? Her condition couldn’t be that bad! She wanted to scream and tear her hair out and maybe hold the girl against her again and-!

The sound of a throat clearing from the doorway almost made Scorpia startle off the side of her bed. 

Catra blinked slowly, holding the folded uniform in her arms. She had managed to recompose herself on the walk back from the laundry depot meaning her face was again masked with a soft professionalism, but she had to physically restrain herself from cackling as the scorpioni floundered with the sheets. Maybe ‘slow to process things’ had been a little too generous for the Force Captain. 

Sauntering up to the woman, Catra carefully deposited the uniform on an end table and sat down on the side of the bed, looking to Scorpia with her best ‘warm and attentive’ look.

“Is there anything else I can get for you Force Captain?”

Scorpia raised a sheet in front of herself again despite already being covered by them and began to stammer out a response. 

“Yes- no! Clothes-! Yes! I mean- you got dressed-!” 

They both froze at that, Scorpia physically slapping a pincer over her mouth.

Catra wasn’t sure if she wanted to cackle or cringe at the unintended statement, keeping herself and her face still regardless. It was rapidly becoming apparent just how easy it was to keep Scorpia off balance, but as the previous night had shown that wasn’t inherently a good thing. The wrong tease at the wrong time might well prove just as provocative as her touch had, so instead of challenging the scorpioni she waited. 

Scorpia was screaming internally for the n-teenth time this morning. How was it so hard to talk to this girl! She had to stop making a fool of herself, but she hadn’t been trying to make a fool of herself when she opened her mouth. She got it! The magicat always took charge when she slipped up like this! She just had to wait for her to do it again!

The pair stared at each other. 

Thirty seconds passed. 

Catra blinked first. 

“Uh,” she ventured, “Yes... Did, did you want some help getting dressed?”

“ _Yes please._ ” Scorpia squeaked.

Nodding slowly, Catra turned to the uniform and unfolded it, withdrawing the undergarments from the pile and passing them over to the scopioni. 

Scorpia took the top and boxers and awkwardly slipped into both while keeping herself covered by the blankets. She winced a bit as the top touched her wound and the magicat immediately retracted her hand from where it was reaching for the over-shirt and trousers. 

“Did I get the right size?” Catra asked quietly.

“Oh! Yeah, it’s fine, just a bit tender is all.” Scorpia replied, looking anywhere but at the magicat. 

The pair lapsed back into silence for a few moments.

“Is there anything else I can get you, Force Captain?” Catra repeated, remembering that she hadn’t actually gotten an answer to the question earlier.

“No.” Scorpia said, a bit too quickly, “No no, this, this is fine, all good, yep.”

A third silence almost broke out but Scorpia cleared her throat and began looking around the room nervously.

“S-so you uh, you don’t have any other duties that you need to be attending?”

“I’m exempt from training and most of my other duties while taking care of you, though you can dismiss me if you’re not satisfied with my care.”

“Oh! Okay, uhh, in that case, umm,”

Catra suddenly felt a lot less sure of herself.

“In that case” Scorpia continued, “W-would you mind, er, d-doing that thing again? Wh-where you vibrated? N-not if you don’t want to! I just, uh, w-well, since y-you’re taking care of me and all!” the scorpioni blushed. 

Catra took a second to collect herself before moving. _Fuckfuckfuckfuck._ While a lot tamer now that they were both at least partially clothed she had really been hoping that Scorpia’s brain had fried, and she really didn’t like the sound of those reassurances. _She wasn’t allowed to say no you white-haired idiot!_

Standing slowly, Catra walked around the bed to Scorpia’s uninjured side and was welcomed back under the covers where she quickly found herself slotted against the woman’s body with and arm cradling her back. 

This week was going to be hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If/when there is a third chapter things might get bad.


	3. False Presentations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra and Scorpia come to realize a few things about each other and devise plans to forward their goals. Ordinarily it might not be much of a competition, but the game was rigged against Catra from the start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I ended up throwing out two other versions of this chapter because they kept jumping the gun and I'll probably end up doing the same for the next chapter. It's really hard balancing this when Scorpia is such a cinnamon roll. 
> 
> No TW for this chapter.

Scorpia felt... loose. That was the best way to describe it. It felt like someone had gone into her body and let out all of the tension, leaving her in a gooey pile of relaxation. The effect wasn’t as pronounced as it had been last night when she had been naked and holding the magicat on top of her, but that was probably a good thing considering just how out of control she had gotten. Still, she was really starting to get the medical part of this whole ‘companion’ thing, at least, she thought so. She had made it clear that the cadet didn’t need to do anything that made her uncomfortable, right? Right!

Catra was uncomfortable. She couldn’t help but be acutely aware of the strength in the arm that Scorpia had wrapped around her, the same strength that had pinned her down last night. It was uncomfortable knowing that at any second the force captain could simply flex and pull her into a different position, one which might not be as gentle. Even giving Scorpia the benefit of the doubt there Catra couldn’t help but feel agitated being this close to a stranger. Her fur itched to stand on end and a growl kept threatening to build in her throat even as she continued to purr like nothing was the matter. It just didn’t feel right! It made her uncomfortable in her own skin! Still, it was the job, and as much as she hated every part of it she’d had enough practice to control herself.

The pair laid together for what felt like hours for both of them, only for the stalemate to finally be interrupted when Scorpia’s stomach growled and she blushed in embarrassment. 

Catra took that as her cue to stand up and stretch. 

“Grey or brown?” she asked, facing away from Scropia.

Scorpia blinked. “What?”

“Grey rations or brown rations, which do you prefer?”

“Oh!” Scorpia half-laughed nervously, “You don’t have to get me anything!”

Catra looked over her shoulder at the woman. 

“Eating will help with your recovery and the infirmary let’s you choose which kind of rations you want. So, grey or brown?”

Scorpia smiled and rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. 

“Uh, grey please. Truth be told I don’t think anyone actually likes the brown ones all that much.”

Catra gave a small smirk at that and nodded, before moving across that room and into the infirmaries storage room. 

\---

Somehow Scorpia was already missing the closeness they had just shared. She and... huh, it just occurred to her that she never actually got the cadets name... well, she and the cadet had just felt so- so right together! Having the girl vibrating against her side had felt like the most natural thing in the world! A sort of wholeness that Scorpia didn’t remember ever feeling before! Was she being crazy again? It just-... she couldn’t help but want more, but want to feel that soft fur against her skin again, and to have that weight laying against her chest. 

Scorpia felt something change inside of herself. She wanted... she didn’t know the name for what she wanted, but she already knew that it would cross the line of fraternization. But-! There had to be some way, surely! They’d already gone a lot farther then anything she’d previously thought had been allowed, and the cadet kept saying it was alright! 

Shadow Weavers words echoed in her ears again.

“ _She has done this enough times before to know not to cause trouble._ ”

Exactly! The magicat was a professional! All Scorpia had to do was ask if things were okay to do! And if they weren’t, well... she’d just have to live with that. 

\---

Catra took a weak breath, one hand resting halfheartedly against the crate of rations. She really hadn’t expected Scorpia to invite her back into bed, not after how the scorpioni had reacted upon Catra waking up. Had she played it too smooth? Damn it, how else could she have played it!? She needed a way to appease the woman. That had always worked on the more physically inclined of her patients; giving them some kind of indulgence that sated their desire instead of stoking it. 

But what could she do for Scorpia? The woman was so nervous, and embarrassed, and wanting, so desperate for more but so hesitant to act. If left to her own devises the force captain would probably just have them cuddle for a week straight! 

_Would that be such a bad thing?_

Yes! Well, maybe not comparatively, but objectively! 

_It might be safer than provoking something further, and she probably wouldn’t get any complaints for it._

That’s not the point! That was a week in close contact with somebody! A week of keeping her fur in line and her purrs even! A week of not seeing Adora!

Catra punched the wall hard, focusing on the pain that erupted in her hand. She couldn’t think about Adora right now. She couldn’t think about anything, she had to focus on Scorpia, had to manoeuvre the force captain in such a way to wrap up this companion gig early. She’d done it before, she could do it here.

\---

When the magicat emerged from the storage room with a small pile of ration bars Scorpia could tell that something was different. The cadet still had that same look on her face that said ‘ _it’s alright, you can trust me_ ’, but there was a slight exaggeration to her movements, an extra sway in her step. She couldn’t help but swallow nervously as the girl returned to sitting beside her, holding out one of the paper wrapped ration bars expectantly. 

Scorpia took the bar and unwrapped it, taking a bite into the soft grey gruel and swallowing before clearing her throat. 

“So, ahh,” Scorpia began, faltering slightly when the magicat turned a bright expression on her, “well, this is kind of embarrassing and all considering the umm, h-how we’ve been uhh- well, I just kinda realized that I never actually got your name, ha-ha.”

“Catra,” the girl, Catra, replied, “senior cadet, 509th Horde Squadron.”

“Great! So, umm, Catra, you uhh, been a uh, a medical companion for a while now?”

Scorpia felt the girl stiffen for a moment even as her expression remained unchanged. 

“Long enough.” the magicat replied neutrally. 

Scorpia could feel herself starting to sweat and took another bite of her ration bar to stall for a moment before continuing. 

“A-and by now y-you’re pretty familiar w-with all the rules and stuff that go i-into it, right?”

Catra puts down her half finished ration bar and changes her position on the bed to kneel facing Scorpia, a playful smirk growing on her lips.

“I’m familiar with what’s usually expected of me.” she replies, leaning forwards slightly.

Scopria was definitely sweating now, probably blushing too. 

“A-and you’re o-okay with th-the, uhh, fraternization p-part?” she stammers out.

“It’s my duty.” Catra breaths, moving forwards onto her arms, “I have to make sure recovering patients like yourself feel _comfortable_.”

There was still a foot of space between their faces by this point but to Scorpia they may as well be kissing. _Those eyes_. Yellow and blue, sharp, predatory, playful, they stole her breath away. _This is it! Just ask her!_ But Scorpia’s throat was frozen shut, filled with more knots than her last attempt at knitting. So instead, by some base impulse, she moves her arms underneath the magicat’s armpits and slowly began to pull her in. 

Catra obliged the woman, but made sure to position herself carefully, her knees on the outside of Scorpia’s hips, her arms holding herself over top the woman. This next part was going to be tricky, especially with this all being a new experience for the scorpioni, but if she could judge her actions correctly it would put the force captain down for the count. 

Leaning the last of the way in, Catra nuzzled her face against Scorpia’s, quickly moving her arms to stop Scorpia’s when she felt the woman start to go for another embrace.

“Just relax.” she whispered, her voice husky in the scorpioni’s ear, “Let me do all the moving. I’ll take care of you.”

Only when Scorpia complied and lowered her arms did Catra let’s herself sink down onto the woman and begin purring a deep, rumbling purr. 

The effect was immediate, Scorpia’s entire body tensing and untensing in a second as Catra laid it on thick and continued to nuzzle her face against the scorpioni’s face, chin, and neck. Deciding to take a slight risk, Catra also began to knead her claws into Scorpia’s shirt and wrap her tail around the woman’s leg. 

Scorpia again begins to raise her arms instinctively for an embrace but Catra immediately stops and gently pushes them back down, whispering more gentle reassurances to the force captain before starting up again. 

If Scorpia was a pile of relaxation earlier then she was a puddle of it now. Even with the pair of uniforms between them she could feel the vibrations in her _bones_ , unravelling her entire nervous system into a sweet, warm bliss. She doesn’t even realize she’s lost her sense of the world before she falls to sleep.

Catra waits. Scorpia is definitely asleep, but that’s no guarantee of safety. Slowly, she stops her nuzzling, the movements growing shallower until their faces come apart. Next, she withdraws her tail, unwinding it from the tip to make sure her fur doesn’t rub against skin. Finally, her purring dulls to nothing. 

Scorpia remains asleep.

With a grin that would rival the Cheshire cat, Catra props herself up on her hand and feet, then flips off the bed and onto the floor silently, raising to her feet without having made a sound. 

_Just gotta do that a few more times and there’ll be no more cuddling duty._

\---

Catra was smirking to herself as she walked down the corridors from the infirmary to the locker room. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but the Horde very rarely allowed for perfect solutions. In this case she’d take being able to pull herself away at all as a victory.

Suddenly and all at once the corridor filled with a darkness both electrified and unnatural. Catra bit down on her tongue to keep from screaming as that all too familiar darkness enveloped her, washing over her vision and locking her in place, helpless.

“And just what do you think you’re doing out of the infirmary?” a cold, disproving voice questioned from all around her.

Catra tried to work the muscles in her jaw, but the witch wasn’t letting her move.

“Could it be that you _failed_ to learn your lesson last time? Because if that is the case I’m sure I could give you another, one you’ll be sure to commit to memory.”

The darkness loosened just enough for the magicat to take a gasp of air and begin to defend herself desperately. 

“S-Scorpia’s asleep!” she cried, eyes darting back and forth, desperate to meet the gaze of the white ones hiding somewhere in the darkness, “I did everything she wanted a-and now she’s resting!”

Shadow Weaver seemed to pause to consider that, the rippling darkness stilling momentarily.

Catra knew that whatever the witch decided wouldn’t be in her favour and pushed further.

“This whole assignment was a favour to Grizzlor right? He wanted medical help for Scorpia? I’m giving that to her! Comfort and rest! I’m even making sure she doesn’t have to move her injured side too much!”

“Somehow I doubt you’re giving her _everything_ she wants.” Shadow Weaver hissed.

“She doesn’t know what she wants!” Catra exclaimed, panicking as the darkness started to strengthen again, “She had me cuddling with her and I put her to sleep!”

Shadow Weaver paused again, and this time the darkness receded, flowing down from the walls and back beneath the woman’s long red robe. 

“Yes, she does seem like that type doesn’t she.” the witch hummed, “I suppose I’ll have to have a little talk with her about the _full_ extent of your duties.”

Catra growled quietly, not liking the sound of that, but she knew that giving Shadow Weaver that insight was probably the only way for her to get out of some punishment. 

“In the mean time you may rejoin Adora’s squad in training, but, you will return to the force captains side this evening instead of the barracks. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Shadow Weaver.”

“Good.”

And with that the witch glided away.

\---

_It was warm here. The Fright Zone was always either just a bit too hot or just a bit too cold, but here it was simply warm. Scorpia lay in the tall grass, petting the kitty cat that lay on top of her. The cat was small and soft and delicate, but at the same time it also felt like it was some gigantic beast, burying the scorpioni under it’s lushes fur. When it moved it did so with a paradoxical mix of timidness and surety, and when it purred the ground itself seemed to shake even as Scorpia remained still._

_But it wasn’t a cat on top of Scorpia when she looked down at it. It was that cadet, Catra, her fur absolutely radiant. The magicat looked up at her with a soft smirk, then, ever so slowly, leaned forwards until their lips were only a hairs breadth apart._

_A shadow falls over the pair, completely driving out the warmth._

Scorpia bolted upright in bed, then nearly jumped out of it as she turned to see Shadow Weaver staring down at her.

“Shadow Weaver! Ma’am! I uh-!”

Shadow Weaver waved a hand dismissively. 

“At ease Force Captain. I was simply stopping by to see how your recovery was progressing.”

Scorpia blinked. Shadow Weaver sounded... genuine? Well, maybe that wasn’t entirely fair, Shadow Weaver was not exactly prone to jokes, but it actually sounded like she wanted to know how Scorpia was doing, in like, a co-worker-y sort of way. Was this the same person who had snapped at her last night? It had been pretty early in the morning, maybe she had been-

“Well?” Shadow Weaver pressed.

Scorpia startled again, having half forgotten Shadow Weaver was there.

“Oh yeah! No! Good! Great! Everything is totally fine! Well not everything cause I’m still wounded and all but totally doing better! Yep!”

“Glad to hear it.” the witch replied, some of the edge leaving her voice again. “And Catra has been treating you well?”

“Catra’s been amazing!” Scorpia shouted, then winced, “I mean uhh, sh-she’s-”

“Quite.” the witch interrupts, “But to hear her tell it you’re quite shy about her services.”

“Services?”

“Indeed, saying you went so far as to have the both of you get dressed when she much prefers to feel the warmth of her patients against her fur.”

Scorpia could feel the blush all the way down to her shoulders.

“A-a-against-!”

“What’s more, she tells me that you’re afraid to accept her advances, let alone make some of your own.”

“A-a-advances!?”

Shadow Weaver eyes seem to smile behind her mask.

“Come now force captain, surely you can’t expect a small thing like her to put in all the work for your recovery. Explore, give instructions, show her that force captains are strong, brave soldiers, worthy of their command.”

If there was a universe where this all made sense, Scorpia was not inside of it. _Services? Advances? Instructions? Just what was she meant to be doing with the cadet!?_

“Oh, and force captain.” Shadow Weaver drawled, snapping the scorpioni from her thoughts, “I’d make the most of the time I had if I were you. She’ll only be your companion until you’ve completed your recovery after all. It’d be a shame to waste it.”

With that the witch turned and glided out of the infirmary, leaving Scorpia scrabbling for any kind of sense. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay *next* chapter will probably get bad. Don't quote me on that.


	4. Terrible, terrible duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Catra and Scorpia have their marching orders, and neither are to keen to disobey Shadow Weaver. The die is cast, and everyone has to live with the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Dubious Consent, Minor Explicit Material, Implied Suicidal Thoughts.
> 
> No humour this chapter guys and gals. I know chapter 1 was kind of a hot-mess and that 2 and 3 mostly just retread ground and built things up but this chapter is the one that hurts. No more ‘ha-ha’, no more ‘oh no’. Sorrow awaits. 
> 
> For those of you who’re interested, my writing music for this chapter:  
> Finding Hope - Okay

Adora knew Catra better than anyone else in the Fright Zone, a fact that she would have proudly shouted from the roof tops if the Horde in general and Shadow Weaver in particular weren’t so strict about relationships. So when Catra showed up halfway through the squads evening training exercises and began absolutely shredding the training bots Adora knew that something was up. Unfortunately, that was about the only thing she knew. 

Shadow Weaver had started having Catra work in the infirmary a little over two years ago after a particularly intense argument between the officer and cadet, one that Catra still refused to talk about. Since then Adora couldn’t help but feel that Catra had slowly grown... distant. Less open with Adora. 

It had started out with just keeping the details of the argument with Shadow Weaver from her, then it had grown into keeping the details of her medical work a secret, then Catra had started sleeping down at her feet instead of in her arms. Where once Catra had enjoyed every second they spent together, now Adora had a hard time just getting them to stay in the same room. 

And Adora knew that Catra still had the same feelings for her! She knew it with all of her heart! The magicat still carried that same trust in her eyes and vulnerability in her voice as she always had when they were alone together! That hadn’t changed! But touch had become something uncomfortable for the other girl, and Catra was always putting more space between them. Some times they would still find moments to just hold each other and be close, but then weeks would pass where Catra would constantly shy away. 

It left Adora feeling left out in the cold. Cut off from familiar comfort with only the howling, bitter winds of loneliness for an explanation. Something was pressuring her best friend, changing her, and all she knew about it was that it had to do with Catra’s work in the infirmary, a place that Adora had always been pressured to stay away from.

After the exercise had concluded and Commander Cobalt finished chewing-out Catra for damaging so much of the simulation room the magicat took off for the locker room at a run, not even throwing Adora a glance. By the time the rest of the squad caught up, Catra had already drenched herself in the slightly suspect water of the showers and was redressing in the same generic uniform Adora had seen her wearing earlier. 

“Catra!” the blond called.

The magicat stiffened for a moment before she resumed dressing. 

“Hey. Is everything going alright in medical?” Adora continued.

Catra didn’t turn to look at her, and when she replied her voice was soft, not carrying to Lonnie, Kyle, and Rogelio.

“Everything’s fine Adora. The patient is sleeping in good spirits.”

“It’s just, you were really tearing it up out there is all.”

“Shadow Weaver.” Catra replied bluntly.

“Catra, what happened?”

“The witch caught me of leaving and accused me of negligence. Threatened to teach me a lesson I wouldn’t forget. Now she’s having me take the night shift to make up for it.”

Adora wrung her hands together nervously. 

“I mean, you were worried about infection earlier. It’s understandable that she’d-”

Catra slammed her locker, cutting Adora off.

“Catra! Catra wait! I didn’t mean-!”

But the magicat was already gone, tearing out of the room as if it physically hurt to be there. Adora knew she said the wrong thing. She _always_ said the wrong thing when it came to Shadow Weaver.

“What’s eating her?” Lonnie called from across the room.

Adora didn’t answer. Adora couldn’t answer. Staring at the door that the magicat had just stormed through, Adora realized that while she might know more about Catra than anyone else in the Horde, she still didn’t know enough to help her friend.

\---

Scorpia stared at the top and boxers now sitting folded on the end table. She’d had to take the top off for the doctors to inspect her wound and, well, if she was going to take the top off she might as well take the boxers off too, right?

That’s what both Catra and Shadow Weaver were expecting, right?

Scorpia couldn’t help but stare at the articles of clothing and shift under the covers, suddenly a bit uncomfortable with her own nakedness. 

Was she really doing this? What was she doing? ‘Explore’ Shadow Weaver had said. Explore what? She loved the feeling of Catra’s fur, and how good it felt when the girl purred on top of her. The nuzzling had been new, she liked that as well. What else was there? Catra had wrapped her tail around Scorpia’s leg, maybe she could do the same with her tail? Or would the scaled carapace be uncomfortable? That hadn’t seemed to be an issue with her arms thankfully, but the scales on her tail sat different. 

Maybe... maybe she should let Catra lead? 

Shadow Weavers words didn’t so much echo in her head now as they boomed, tall and sharp and intimidating. 

_“Give instructions, show her that force captains are strong, brave soldiers, worthy of their command.”_

Despite the near-casual tone Shadow Weaver had spoken the line with, Scorpia couldn’t help but feel like it had been an order. She had to direct things even just a little bit, she had to prove that she was open to Catra’s _advances_. And she had to make some herself?

She rubbed her face with her pincers. 

If the goal of all of this was to make her feel comfortable then something had definitely gone wrong along the way. 

Yet despite her nervousness, Scorpia’s mind couldn’t help but drift back to the dream she had been having before Shadow Weaver had walked in. _Warmth. Softness. Peace._ It had felt like she and Catra were the only two people in a world made just for them. The green grass, the warm breeze, the gentle sunlight. The feel of a certain senior cadet laying against her chest. If felt so right in a way that only a dream could capture.

Scorpia let her pincers slide down her face and stared up at the ceiling. She _wanted_ that. _Wanted_ to recapture that feeling, to see that same expression on Catra’s face, to drown out the rest of the world and just enjoy their closeness. 

Scorpia felt something change inside of herself again, a faint but definite resolve blossoming out of her mess of feelings. She was still nervous enough to pace around the entirety of the Fright Zone twice over, but buried deep within that nervousness was a roaring desire. One that she silently swore to herself that she would fulfill. 

\---

The lights of the Fright Zone clicked off. Catra stood frozen outside of the infirmary, that same familiar pit growing in her stomach. The witch had given her her orders, and had no doubt given the scorpioni a few creative suggestions. There was no way out of it. Shadow Weaver had set up all the pieces just right. 

As always Catra felt the urge to run. To run and run, and not to stop until she was some place the witch couldn’t reach her. But in a small, black corner of her heart Catra knew there was no place in all of Etheria that Shadow Weaver wouldn’t be able to reach her if she really set her mind to it. And Shadow Weaver always set her mind to it when planning to hurt Catra. 

A single tear spilled from each of the magicat’s eyes as she stood there, knowing that she’d have to go in but silently begging for just another second to put it off. 

It was time to do her job.

\--- (Content warning. Go to the next set of dashes if you want to skip.)

Scorpia looked up and smiled as a familiar figure slowly slinked into the room. In the low light cast by the end table lamp Catra looked like a nocturnal predator, her pupils slightly widened but completely focused, her motions deliberate as if avoiding pitfalls. It all came together to give the impression of something very sharp and maybe even a bit dangerous if one wasn’t careful, but for all of that Scorpia only felt her heart swell as the distance closed. 

When Catra arrived at her usual spot beside the bed Scorpia rather sheepishly lifted the covers to invite her in again, absentmindedly revealing her nudity in the process. Catra simply nodded, and in the low illumination began to remove her own uniform, stopping only briefly to appraise the scorpioni’s expression when she reached her undergarments. 

Scorpia’s face must have showed her desire beneath her embarrassment as soon the pair were both naked beneath the covers. 

Soft fur brushed against warm skin as two bodies met, entirely exposed to each other for the first time. 

Part of Catra wished she couldn’t feel the warmth. Scorpia radiated warmth both figuratively and literally, leaving no place in Catra’s mind for her to hide from the truth. She was trapped here, in this moment, in this place, a prisoner of herself, bound by the orders and threats of the woman who was supposed to be her mother into doing something she hated. 

Scorpia struggled to breathe, her every nerve and fibre super-charged like an overloading reactor. The weight, the warmth, the softness, it was impossible, it was dream-like! She needed to do something! Needed to use this feeling! Express this energy! Without even thinking about it she grabbed Catra by the sides and slowly lifted her forwards just like she had during their last session together. 

No hint of pain or sorrow escaped Catra as the scorpioni drew her her in. Not a single whisper of hesitance marked her face. She couldn’t afford to let it. If she faltered here she’d fall apart. 

The pair were face to face and still Scorpia couldn’t help but pull the girl in closer. There was something she had to do, something she needed but couldn’t describe. On instinct her eyes dropped to the magicat’s lips. _Soft and sharp, just like the rest of her_. She tilted her head slightly and moved a pincer to Catra’s mane, bringing their faces together. 

Closing her eyes, Catra moved her lips down to the force captain’s and felt them meet, the scorpioni reacting instantly.

If touching Catra had been electrifying then kissing her was _transcendent_. All the lingering fears and doubts that Scorpia held instantly dissolved beneath a focused beam of pure, rapturous connection. _This was heaven_. 

But for all that the scorpioni drew from the kiss, Catra only felt hollow. There was no fire for her, no rays of sunlight, no secret truths of life and love, only another check from the list, another piece of herself that Shadow Weaver stole from her. 

The kiss deepened but eventually broke, Scorpia gasping desperately for life. She was trembling uncontrollably beneath the cadet, unable to keep herself still as emotion continually tore through her mind like so many artillery shells. 

Making one last subtle attempt at escape, Catra shifted gently, moving her hands to the scorpioni’s forearms in an attempt to push them back down against the bed as she had last time. But the force captain wasn’t having it this time.

“It’s alright.” Scorpia breathed, “It’s alright, I won’t freeze up again.”

Catra ducked her head down to the scorpioni’s neck and nuzzled against her, hiding a scowl that she hadn’t the will to suppress. Her skilful lies were one of the few things she thought she’d gained from her work, but now even they were being turned against her. Her shield proving to be just another weight around her neck.

Scorpia pulled them together for another kiss, and then another, desperately pulling at the thread of feelings that now entirely dominated her mind. Every motion, every action, every touch seemed to add timber to the ever growing bonfire of desire, but nothing yet seemed to bring her to where she _needed_ to be, to offer her what her body _needed_ to feel.

The force captain was an open book, the font big and bold now that she had completely let go of her hesitance. Catra wrapped an arm beneath the woman’s back and began to ghost kisses down her neck, slowly moving down the scorpioni, smoothly changing positions as she needed to. Finally Catra stopped, her warm, husky breath playing against the skin of the scorpioni’s breast, a hardened nipple practically begging for attention right where the next kiss was to be placed. She almost didn’t need to ask, she could already see the answer as plain as day, but character demanded it, so she looked up to the panting scorpioni who was now staring at her like a moth to a flame. 

“Do you want me to-?”

“ _Y-yes!_ ” Scorpia pleaded.

A last smirk graced Catra’s features, more tired than playful by this point, but she doubted the scorpioni noticed. Lowering her head back down, Catra first drew her rough tongue against the hardened flesh, then drew the nipple entirely into her mouth, teasing it with her sharp teeth. But before the scorpioni could recover from that overwhelming sensation, Catra made what would undoubtedly be her last move of the night, and slotted her knee between the force captains legs, applying the subtlest of pressures.

Scorpia practically screamed; a heavy, needy, hungry noise tearing from her throat and filling the empty infirmary. Before that moment she had felt possessed, but beneath that touch she _was_ possessed, consumed entirely by instincts long dormant. Her pincers move in a blur, one catching the magicat’s back, the other catching her leg. Entirely without the restraints of shame, bashfulness, or reason, her body moved, her back arching, her pincers pulling, her crotch rubbing, everything carnal and hungry. It was a sensation that eclipsed all else, allowing for no thought, no distraction. 

And then she found release.

\---

What was left of the magicat when Scorpia finally settled down didn’t feel like Catra anymore. Catra carried herself in a certain way and gave off a particular impression, neither of which the magicat possessed. In fact, there wasn’t much of anything left to the magicat beyond her soft fur and a pacified purr. It didn’t feel like they had any other pieces left.

\---

Up in the air vents of the infirmary, just on the other side of the ventilation grate, Adora cried horrible, ugly tears into her arms. She muffled her sobs as best she could, but no power in the universe could have muffled her feelings in that moment. This was what Shadow Weaver was making Catra do. Her best friend. _Her best friend_. And this was how she was forced to spend so much of her time! Adora wept until she had shed tears for every moment she and Catra had ever spent apart, until she had grieved each word she’d ever spoken in defence of Shadow Weaver, and until she could count every time in the last two and a half years Catra had been called to the infirmary. She couldn’t cry enough. 

Adora would collapse in that vent, her pain and regret finally sucking out the last shreds of strength from her freshly embittered heart. And as consciousness slipped away from her she swore she’d make things right.

\---

Catra finds herself standing on a half-broken guardrail on top of one of the factory buildings. She doesn’t remember how she got up here, but that hardly feels important. 

A sudden gust of wind roars from behind her, forcing her to lean forwards slightly as her feet instinctively wrap tighter around the bar she’s standing on.

She’s pretty high up. Twenty stories at least. And over concrete too. 

The gust ends, allowing her to rock casually back onto her feet. 

She has to imagine that Scorpia fell asleep again if she’s up here. Shadow Weaver will probably yell at her if she let’s the force captain wake up alone, but even with the threat of a _correction_ in the back of her mind Catra can’t bring herself to care. 

The Fright Zone was half-way pretty from up here, if in a rather ugly way. The refinery towers stretch high above her, spewing their clouds of smog into the endless layers of smog that mar the sky, and below the various lights of the compounds and warehouses and sprawl paint a glowing, if twisted picture of progress. Between it all Catra could almost forget that she even existed. 

But just as she was trapped in those moments with Scorpia, part of her mind was still trapped in the here and now, reminding her about timetables and orders, of how she had to go back or face the consequences. 

Another gust of wind came from behind Catra, and as she was again forced to lean forwards a decision falls into her heart. 

She wasn’t going back this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did warn you things would probably get bad this chapter. 
> 
> Let's see what can be done to fix this.


	5. New Perspectives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adora has shied away from the true nature of the Horde for many years now, choosing to believe what she's been taught over what she's felt. After the events of last night, she can't do that anymore. 
> 
> Meanwhile, Scorpia is given a little reality check.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically nothing from my original story board made it in for this chapter. I ended up rewriting the whole thing four times and I still don't entirely like it but I refuse to rebuild the chapter from the ground up for a fifth time. Always hard to follow up a really impactful chapter.
> 
> No TW for this chapter. 
> 
> Next chapter will hopefully be more solid.

Adora was vaguely aware that she had missed the morning alarm. Not twelve hours ago the very idea of being truant like this and ruining her perfect record would have horrified her. Now though, it almost felt like a relief. 

She wasn’t following orders. She wasn’t going along with the system. She wasn’t being perfect. 

But that was a hollow comfort for her position up in the air vents. 

She’d snuck out of the barracks just before lights out last night, and made her way to one of the many secret places that she and Catra had shared with each other over the years. By all accounts it was just another supply closet filled with janitorial equipment and the like, but to those in the know, it held two important secrets. Firstly, the entrance to the supply closet was in a camera dead-zone, and secondly, the air duct at the back of the room just so happened to have a loose cover. 

From that hidden entrance it had been relatively simple to navigate the mostly grid like air ducts of the training compound until she reached the infirmary.

That’s where it had all gone wrong.

Last night had permanently burned itself into the blond’s mind, making her feel sick, and angry, and so, so very guilty. It felt inescapable, all-consuming. She couldn’t focus on anything else while that scene replayed itself over and over in her head. 

...

Adora couldn’t point to what exactly gave it away, but she had known form the first moment she’d laid eyes on her that Catra had been deeply uncomfortable. Maybe it had been the way her tail had swayed, or the caution of her movements, or something small about the way she smiled, but in her mind Catra had been screaming, begging for help.

And Scorpia hadn’t picked up on any of it.

The older woman had invited Catra into her bed, then brought her in for a kiss, and then-. 

Fresh tears welled up in Adora’s eyes. 

Then Catra’s silent screaming had stopped. The magicat released her hold on the scorpioni’s arms, and surrendered to her fate. 

Adora remember watching helplessly as her friend become little more than a doll in the force captain’s arms. Malleable, obedient, and empty. 

She couldn’t bare to keep watching after that, but she’d forced herself to listen to the one-sided enjoyment of it all. To what Catra had no doubt been subjected to a dozen times over at least. 

...

If there were words to express the crushing pain, and cold, and regret, and anger, and desolation that Adora felt, if there was some way to translate that raw feeling into noise or action, then the Horde hadn’t taught it to her. Instead it was all stuck inside her chest, a knot over her heart that let nothing flow. She couldn’t move from where she had collapsed, and she couldn’t find it in herself to care. 

Time had passed. It might have been hours, it might have been days, it might have been mere seconds. 

Nothing felt right. Nothing in the world felt right. 

Slowly though, Adora realized something. Somewhere beneath it all, somewhere deep beneath the weight of her world dying around her, there was life. Faint, yet burning to the touch. As emptied of everything as Adora felt there was still the tiniest spark within her that refused to give in to despair. 

_It doesn’t matter what they do to us, y’know? You look out for me, and I look out for you. Nothing really bad can happen as long as we have each other._

It was an old memory. The oldest she could remember clearly. And right now it was the only thing within her that wouldn’t let go. 

Sucking in a pained breath, Adora forced her aching muscles into motion, pulling herself forwards through the vents until she was over the nearest hallway. The motion had been agony, but it stirred something up within her, giving her the strength to cleanly kick off the vent cover and drop to the hallway below. 

Catra needed her. And she had a promise to keep.

\---

No one moved to stop Adora. Either she was giving off a strong enough aura to keep them away or they simply didn’t care. No one came to fetch her after she missed the morning drills, or the post-drill seminar, or even the noon-time ration. Part of her was angry at that, that they were for whatever reason letting things slide when the Horde so often preached at length about the merits of discipline, but on the other hand it did leave her free to scour the Fright Zone for Catra. Not that it did her any good. The magicat wasn’t in any of her usual haunts. Adora checked supply closets, roof tops, warehouses, maintenance corridors, anywhere where no one usually went or where a nimble cadet could clamber away from things. Each was short one best friend. 

Adora was just about ready to start abducting potential witnesses for interrogations when a familiar chill ran up her spine. 

“And just where have you been Adora?”

Shadow Weaver. 

Adora wanted to hate Shadow Weaver, wanted to feel a pure, righteous fury at her mentor for the torture she’d forced Catra to endure, but... 

It wasn’t complicated! But it felt so tremendously difficult! Shadow Weaver had been extra hard on Catra since they were kids! She’d abused the magicat both verbally and physically! Adora had seen the deep scars of both first hand! She’d hated it! Even as she told herself Shadow Weaver was just trying to push Catra to be better, or was just enforcing the rules that Catra insisted on breaking she had hated the terrible wounds left on her friend with all of her heart! And now to find out that Shadow Weaver had been forcing this onto Catra as well! She should hate the witch with everything she had! Should want to tear her limb from sadistic limb!

But she couldn’t. Shadow Weaver had raised her. Taught her her numbers and letters. Shown her how to tie her boots. Whispered into her ear about how one day she would be the greatest hero the world had ever known. 

For all the anger and rage she felt building up inside herself Adora could no more turn it against Shadow Weaver than she could wrestle a storm, because that’s what Shadow Weaver felt like in her heart, a gale that tore down all in it’s way. Every time she tried to muster her emotions against her mentor it felt hollow, she felt weak, like she was sinking into the planet, like all her limbs were suddenly filled with lead. 

Adora wanted to hate Shadow Weaver, and part of her hated herself because she couldn’t. 

The witched moved to stand in front of the blond, looming over her.

“Well Cadet?”

“I was looking for Catra.” she replied meekly, “She’s gone missing.”

“Oh Adora.” Shadow Weaver cooed, “We’ve talked about this. You cannot allow that lazy mongrel to distract you from your true potential.”

“She’s not a mongrel!” Adora hissed.

A cold, sharp hand caught Adora’s chin roughly and forced her to look Shadow Weaver in the eyes. The witch’s voice was no longer gentle.

“She’s an **animal** , Adora. One that constantly skips out on her training **and** her duties. There is a patient in medical **right now** who was left without supervision for part of the night because that cat **abandoned them**. Does that sound like a proper soldier to you?” 

Adora flinched, but not for the reason that Shadow Weaver intended. For the first time in her life, Adora felt the poison pouring out of her mentor. Shadow Weaver was lying on top of her lies, twisting the truth to tear down Catra even as she forced the magicat to the breaking point. Staring Shadow Weaver in the face, Adora realized that she was finally starting to see the truth. 

“Something happened to her.” she insisted, “I went to check on her just after morning alarm but she wasn’t in the infirmary, and she wasn’t in any of her hideouts either.”

Adora normally wasn’t one to lie, at least not very well, but somehow she managed to get the words out evenly. Shadow Weaver however, narrowed her eyes.

“Just after morning alarm you say? Because from how I heard it, you weren’t in your bunk all night, cadet.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

Again the words come out evenly. 

Shadow Weaver sighed dramatically this time, finally releasing Adora’s chin before she continued, voice switching back to that of an exasperated mother.

“Adora really, your obsession with that creature must stop if you ever hope to reach your full potential. You do want to be a great force captain don’t you? To liberate Etheria from the tyranny of the princesses and their evil magics?”

“Of course.” Adora replied automatically. 

“Then get yourself a ration bar, and report back to the training hall.”

“No.”

Both parties stiffened at the refusal. Shadow Weaver recovered first, a darkness spreading out from behind her.

“ _What was that, cadet?_ ” the witch asked slowly.

Fear, rage, and love battled for control of Adora’s tongue for a few moments, paralyzing her beneath the suddenly hostile presence of her mentor. _She just refused Shadow Weaver! What was she doing!_ Fortunately she didn’t have to think that far ahead as her tongue suddenly began moving again.

“Catra is a member of my squad. If she has abandoned her duty then it is my responsibility to deal with her. That comes before anything else. I have to find her.”

Neither party spoke for a few moments as Shadow Weaver took measure of her student. 

“You can show her no mercy this time Adora. She gambled with the life of an officer. You will discipline her thoroughly or you will receive equal punishment from me. Is that clear?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good.” The darkness emanating from Shadow Weaver receded and she continued, “Wait for us in the Black Garnet Chamber. I will drag that mongrel to you myself.”

\---

The usual static of the Black Garnet Chamber barely registered with Adora as she entered the room. Once upon a time she might have felt on edge waiting in the harsh, scarlet light by herself, but that didn’t register with her either at the moment. Every moment spent here was a moment she wasn’t out there looking for Catra. And on top of that, now Shadow Weaver was out looking for Catra! Shadow Weaver, the person who had caused Catra to run away in the first place!

Adora covered her face with her hands and screamed. This was the opposite of how she needed things to go. 

“ _You promise?_ ”

“I promise.” she whispered, raising her head.

Right. Right! If she couldn’t help Catra out there, then she’d just have to find a way to help her best friend from right here!

\---

Scorpia was floating, held aloft by clouds of ecstasy in a sky of peace. A sky of peace that looked suspiciously like the training compound infirmary. She blinked. It was the training compound infirmary. Oh, that was okay. Everything would be alright so long as she had her kitty with her. Her pincers patted only her own chest. 

Scorpia startled, snapped from her little fantasy at the realization that Catra was gone. 

The infirmary lights were on and the room was empty, the clock in the corner reading ‘14:22’. Oh geez, had she slept in that late? Well, that wasn’t entirely surprising considering just how active she’d been last night but- Right! Catra was missing!

Scorpia did another visual sweep of the room, as if the magicat could be hiding behind the furniture or crouched on top of one of the cupboards. Still nothing.

What the hell? They had finally really connected! Scorpia blushed at the accidental double entendre. That wasn’t what she meant! But she and Catra had, y’know, moved pass the awkwardness and had a really enjoyable time together! Well, Scorpia had had... oh shoot had she messed this up? Her mind reached back to the previous night, grasping for cues she might have missed. She’d reassured the cadet that she wouldn’t freeze up again, then there had been nuzzling, then there had been more kissing, and then Catra had made what had to have been an _advance_. The way her lips had traced down Scorpia’s flesh-! 

Scorpia had to stop herself there and take a swig from the pitcher of water beside her bed to calm down. Catra had totally _advanced_ on her and then she had run with it! So where had-?

“You think the big lug is still asleep?”

“After the treatment that Shadow Weaver’s toy gave her last night? We’ll be lucky if she don’t sleep through the rest of her recovery.”

A pair of crude voices came in from just outside the infirmary door, stopping Scorpia’s thoughts in their tracks. _Those were the doctors voices!_

“Ha! Half tempted to shoot myself an’ call it a weapons malfunction just to get in on some’a that action.”

“It don’t work that way ya idiot.”

“Oh yeah? And how would you know?”

“Cause I’ve been working here longer shit-for-brains! Shadow Weaver only sends the cat in if they get inna fight or some big shot wants something _special_. Trust me, if there were some way for us ta get in on the cat’s services I woulda got some by now.”

“Fuck you, it’s gonna be my bed that pet warms one’a these days.”

The pair continued to bicker but the sound failed to reach Scorpia’s ears. 

Right... she... wasn’t special... Catra... did this for... all the officers... 

Shadow Weaver had even told her that she’d done this plenty of times before... that it was all temporary...

The last hints of warmth died in her chest and she found herself laying back down in the bed. 

This time when she dreamed, it wasn’t of a warm field. 

\---

Adora had gone over the room thrice. There was the Black Garnet, a wide bowl of water on a stone pedestal, some anchors for restraints, a bookshelf, Shadow Weaver’s desk, and a cabinet. No Catra. No magic solution. 

She could feel the anxiety creeping up her spine with each passing minute. 

There was no way she was going through Shadow Weaver’s desk, or her cabinet, thing. The Garnet, the water, and the anchors were no help either. That just left the bookshelf.

Calling it a bookshelf might have been a bit generous. The structure was just three shelves on top of a pair of drawers, maybe thirty volumes in total, none of which were labelled. Still, if Adora had to just stand still and wait for Shadow Weaver she was going to go crazy, and all her other options had already been ruled out. 

She started taking books down one at a time and flipping through them. The top shelf seemed mostly magic related, not much use too Adora. The next shelf down seemed to be an archive of some kind, stuffed fat with logistics reports from the last six months of the war. Again, not terribly useful to her right now. Adora almost dismissed the third shelf as more of the same before pulling out a new volume and freezing as she read one of the passages at random.

_‘Despite her fierce resistance it would seem that Catra is finally beginning to crack beneath the pressures of her new position. After the last two days in the infirmary she has stopped cuddling with Adora all together, instead sleeping at her feet. With any luck the sudden lack of physical intimacy will shock Adora out of her foolish notions of companionship. Additional steps need to be taken. Catra cannot be allowed to recover from this.’_

It was a log book. Written by Shadow Weaver. About torturing her best friend.

Adora let go of the book and watched if fall to the floor where it landed on it’s spine.

She’d felt many things since the previous night, and many of those feelings had felt all encompassing. None of them compared to this.

Without bothering to hide her snooping, Adora turned and walked out of the Black Garnet Chamber. 

She still felt guilty, but she no longer felt conflicted. All of her hate was directed at one person now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tried to have Adora go on something of an emotional journey instead of flipping her all at once. Emotions are hard.


	6. Obstacles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Catra's best friend and her commanding officer are searching for her now, though for very different reasons. Adora has had the truth forced upon her and will figure out what to do about it once she actually finds her friend. Shadow Weaver authored that truth, and is keen to get a start on the next chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No TW.
> 
> I feel like this story has gotten away from the original intent of exploring certain dark themes and emotions, but given that it was originally supposed to be a one-shot that's hardly surprising. 
> 
> Adora has thus far proven the hardest character to write for, though I imagine that'll change once we get to the rebellion.

Shadow Weaver growled to herself. Finding the mongrel was proving harder than she had originally anticipated. Her shadow spies had canvased every structure in the Fright Zone and so far they hadn’t turned up hide nor hair of the magicat. That _should_ be impossible, unless...

A cruel, victorious grin spread across the witch’s face. 

She’d finally driven the beast out. Catra’s dwindling resolve had finally snapped. She couldn’t find the cat within the Fright Zone because she was no longer in the Fright Zone. And that made her a deserter. 

Shadow Weaver steepled her fingers together and looked out across the blasted wastes of the Fright Zone towards the Whispering Woods. Knowing the mongrel that would be where she fled, relying on the dangerous terrain to keep her safe from the Horde and her own ability to keep her safe from the dangerous terrain. Foolish. While the Horde as a fighting force could not advance through the Whispering Woods there were alternative measures that could be taken. But how best to pass this news to Adora?

That gave the witch some pause. While Adora’s relationship with the beast had suffered during Catra’s tenure as a ‘medical companion’ there had been something off with the blond when they had last spoke. Adora new better than to disobey orders, and yet she had insisted on dealing with Catra herself. If a genuine sentiment it would be just the wedge Shadow Weaver needed to fully break the two apart, but she strongly doubted Adora’s sincerity in the matter. Something about the blond’s posture and tone of voice perhaps. 

Regardless of her pupil’s sincerity, how she presented the news was vital. One wrong step could destroy years worth of guidance and conditioning. Hmmm. Maybe some additional charges could be arranged. 

\---

“What do you mean ‘encryption issues’?” Adora demanded.

“I mean what I said.” the soldier responded, gesturing towards the monitors, “None of last nights security footage was saved properly. It’s completely gone.”

“And there’s nothing you can do about it. No back ups, no recovery, nothing.”

“’Fraid so. Whatever you were looking to see is gone.”

Adora turned and began pacing back and forth across the room. Of all the rotten luck, of all the technical failures, it just had to be this. Some random computer issue erasing Catra’s trail. Another-

She paused mid-thought, a sudden, prickly feeling on the back of her neck. 

_Another obstacle between her and her best friend._

She’d recently become quite suspicious of those. 

Her eyes flashed back to the soldier, the man’s face hidden behind a standard issue helmet. Maybe the stress was making her see things, but under her intense gaze the man suddenly appeared nervous. 

“And this, _technical issue_ , it affected **every** security camera in the entire training compound?” Adora questioned, eyes narrowing.

“Well, maybe not every camera, but-”

“Do you happen to have a list of the cameras affected by the issue?”

“Well, I mean-”

“A simple yes or no will do soldier, and if not we can go through the recordings to compile a list.”

The man stiffened at that. “I uh, I’m not sure you have the authority to-”

Adora was in the man’s face in an instant, a stun baton sparking to life her right hand. 

“I don’t have time for this. Either give me the list or you can explain to Hordak why the security footage of a medical cadet abandoning an injured force captain went missing. How do you think he’ll take it?”

The man flinched back in his chair. 

“Alright, alright!” he protested, “I should just be able to see which recording are missing from the inventory.”

With that he turned back to the wall of monitors and opened a folder with the previous night’s date. Adora quickly memorized the list of working cameras and began assembling a mental map of the training compound. It was a bit tricky to come up with all the possible routes Catra could have taken given both the magicat’s enhanced mobility and penchant for secrets, but one stuck out above the rest. 

The secondary skiff mechanics bay.

\---

It took Shadow Weaver longer than she had wanted to to make the proper preparations for dealing with both Catra and Adora, but her hand in things had to be kept secret. Regardless, that was all taken care of now. Gliding back into the Black Garnet Chamber Shadow Weaver looked to the spare chair she so often left Adora waiting in. 

It was empty. 

Shadow Weaver looked around the room quickly. There was no Adora in sight. Storming around to the far side of the Black Garnet, the only thing in the room that could have possibly hidden her student, Shadow Weaver’s gaze on a particular volume lying on the ground and she snarled. 

_That whelp! She’d been told long ago not to go snooping!_ Adora would be beyond convincing now, and that meant a very special _correction_ was in order, what a waste. _Still_ , Shadow Weaver paused, _given the current circumstances, it might prove a blessing in disguise_. Idea’s began floating through the witch’s mind and a twisted grin carved itself on her face. With the proper setup it might just be possible to break those two apart entirely!

\---

Calling the secondary skiff mechanics bay a mess would have been a disservice to messes everywhere. Organization obsessed Adora was appalled. There were literal piles of broken parts set up haphazardly around the room, giving the place it’s own messed up topography. 

Shaking her head to clear it of the endless criticisms she had, Adora marched up to the nearest mechanic, an older woman missing a pair of fingers. 

“Hey, excuse me!” Adora called over the sound of power tools, “I need some help, it’s for a disciplinary case!”

The woman spared Adora a glance but continued to focus on the machine in front of her. The blond was just about to shout again when the woman finally shut off her circular-saw and turned to face her.

“Waddya need kid?”

“I need the vehicle inventory. It’s possible that one got stolen last night.”

“Well that’s gonna be a problem kid, this place doesn’t have a proper vehicle inventory.”

“What!? Why not?” 

“This is the _secondary_ mechanics bay for a reason. Most of the time we aren’t fixing things so much as we’re salvaging them.”

“But- I- Okay.” Adora stops, taking a deep breath. “Were there any skiffs in here last night that could still run?”

“A few.”

“Are they all still here?”

“Dunno.”

“Do you have any way to check?”

“No.”

“Is there anyone that might know?”

“Dunno.”

Adora wiped her hands down her face. What was with this place! It made zero sense for Shadow Weaver to be sabotaging her efforts here to! But surely there was no way a mechanics bay was actually run this way!

“Was there a guard on duty last night?”

“Sure.”

“Do you know who it was?”

“Nope.”

“Would the same guard be on duty tonight as well?”

“Dunno.”

This was ridiculous!

“Were there any claw marks that appeared on things overnight?”

“Oh yeah, a few.”

Finally!

“Where?”

“Someone slashed up the foreman’s office. Made a real mess of the place too.”

“Why didn’t you start with that!”

“You didn’t ask.”

Adora was actually shaking with frustration by this point, but she had found a lead. Catra had definitely come through here last night, though for what reason...

“Are the ignition keys for the skiffs kept in the foreman’s office?” the blond asked.

“Yep.”

“Any chance one’s missing?”

“Dunno.”

Despite the woman’s answer Adora was already pretty sure that one was.

Which meant that Catra had left. Without her. 

Adora shook her head. Catra had been right to leave! And she had to have been under a lot of stress! It was selfish to think about herself in this situation! Catra had needed to get out as fast as possible, even if had meant leaving Adora behind! 

Fighting back the bitter taste in her mouth Adora thanked the mechanic and took off.

Okay. Okay, Catra had left, that made her a deserter, but Adora was still going to help her! She had a promise to keep!

\---

The security technician snapped to attention as Shadow Weaver glided into the room, fumbling slightly as he did so.

“Ma’am, there’s been a problem.” he half-shouted, his nerves evident.

Shadow Weaver moved to loom over the man, covering him in her shadow.

“I felt my orders were quite clear, soldier. It would be unfortunate to think that you were incapable of following simple instructions.”

“I erased the footage as per your request, ma’am, but cadet Adora came in and-”

“And what? She’s a cadet, you’re a soldier. Was there some reason you couldn’t have just turned her away?”

“I tried ma’am!” the soldier pleaded, “She threatened me with a stun baton and said she’d take the matter straight to Hordak! I didn’t-!”

“What. Does. She. Know.” Shadow Weaver ground out.

“She made me tell her which camera’s were missing footage!”

Shadow Weaver threw the man back across the room with the wave of her hand. 

Snooping through her books. Threatening fellow soldiers. This was more than just a spark of rebellion. Something had truly, deeply upset Adora. If this wasn’t taken care of quickly her student would end up doing something that would get herself branded as a traitor, and while Shadow Weaver could work around such an obstacle it would no doubt prove expensive. 

“Where is Adora now?” she hissed.

“I dunno ma’am, she took off outta here right after she got the camera list.”

“You have every security camera in the building at your disposal! Find her!”

The man desperately raced back to his chair, quickly righting it and sitting down at the wall of consoles. 

Simultaneously, Shadow Weaver began focusing her energy, conjuring together a fresh set of shadow spies. She would not let her star pupil throw away her future over some ridiculous animal!

\---

There were only so many places a person could hide in the Training Compound despite how over-built it was. Between the camera’s and her spies they should have been able to search the whole place in only a few minutes. A fact which made it all the more galling when not even a minute after Shadow Weaver had finished conjuring and dispatching her shadows, her search was interrupted by a haggard looking messenger bursting into the room.

“Ma’am! There’s a new report from Force Captain Grizzlor’s scouts!”

She turned slightly to glare at the recruit, allowing herself the small delight of watching him recoil before rebuking him.

“I will get to his report in my own time, recruit.” she hissed.

“It’s about the target of the up coming raid! Thaymor!”

That did give Shadow Weaver pause. Thaymor was supposed to be the target of Adora’s first mission. 

“Be brief.” she commanded, maintain just enough concentration on her shadows to prevent the spell animating them from breaking.

“The scouts say it’s being attacked! There are a number of fires and some of the villagers have been seen fleeing!”

Shadow Weaver’s concentration snapped and she straightened, turning slowly to face the messenger.

“Attacked you say.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And do they know what is attacking?”

“No ma’am, the scouts’ve been unable to spot any attackers. They’re pretty sure it’s not a monster or Bright Moon though. Maybe a small group of bandits? Or a rogue sorcerer?”

With a burning certainty, Shadow Weaver already knew that it wasn’t any band of bandits or wandering dark magician attacking Thaymor. No, with all the pieces of her grand design moving as they were, there was only one answer in her mind for who was behind the attack. Catra. Always getting in the way. For a moment she was consumed by a dark fury, her hands curling into firsts as she imagined all the ways she’d skin the magicat for this disruption.

Focusing all her growing spite into words, Shadow Weaver barked “Get a full strike force ready for mobilization immediately. Stun weapons included. I very much want to capture the ring leader of this little attack.”

The messenger nodded and took off, sprinting back towards the barracks.

\---

Adora was trying very hard not to think about how she was feeling as she worked out a plan of attack. Catra had been right to leave. Adora didn’t know the half of it but she knew that. Catra had been ordered into bed with a superior officer against her will. She had endured deliberately horrible treatment from her superior officer for years. Leaving was the only option that made sense. Leaving Adora only made sense.

She shook her head vigorously and tried to focus on the planing board in front of her. She’d thrown out three different plans so far as being untenable and it was looking like the fourth would follow suit if she couldn’t come up with something. There had to be a way to fix things. There had to be some way to remove Shadow Weaver from the equation and make things work. Some way to bring Catra back home safely.

Adora decided that the noise coming from the corridor was distracting her and opened the door a crack to investigate. 

The corridor was filled with armoured bodies moving at speed towards the main hangar. 

When a familiar face appeared in the crowd storming past the storage room Adora grabbed the figures arm on instinct, pulling them into the small room and closing the door behind them.

“What the hell!” Lonnie shouted, arms coming up defensively, “Adora! Where were you today? Never mind, we’ve got a mission!”

“I’ve been busy.” she answered, “What mission?”

“The rebel are razing one of their own towns, Thaymor, to deny us a potential supply line. Shadow Weavers’ having us intervene to liberate the populous and save the town.”

The mention of her mentor grabbed Adora’s full attention.

“Shadow Weaver ordered this mission? You’re sure it was her personally?”

“Yeah! She’s assembling a strike force right now! C’mon!”

Lonnie moved to pull Adora from the storage room but the blond deftly evaded her hand.

“Go on ahead, there’s something I need to take care of real quick.”

Lonnie looked the blond up and down, her expression a mix of confusion and skepticism, but she shrugged regardless. 

“Okay, but be quick! We’re launching ASAP.”

Adora watched Lonnie quickly rejoin the procession of soldiers heading for the main vehicle bay, swallowing as she took stock of just how many soldiers were being mobilized. There was no way Shadow Weaver was just happening to order this mission at the same time as everything else. She was making her move against Catra.

The growing anxiety which Adora had been suppressing all day suddenly flared up into panic in her chest, eclipsing her fragile determination that she had been holding onto. Shadow Weaver was too many steps ahead of her! Even if she could somehow expose Shadow Weaver’s conspiracy against Catra it would be too late! The Horde didn’t tolerate deserters, they wouldn’t accept the magicat’s reason for leaving! 

Fighting the feeling that she was somehow rooted to that spot on the floor, Adora bolted out of the storage closet and back down the hallways towards the secondary skiff mechanics bay. She had to get to Catra first! There had to be something she could do!

She had a promise to keep!

\---

Meanwhile, about a day’s hike away, Catra cackled as she delivered a snap kick to the gut of another angry villager. This was what passed for a rebellion stronghold? She’d always known the Horde blew their propaganda way out of proportions but this was ridiculous!

Practically no one in the entire town knew how to fight, and what few members of a militia they had had broken before Catra’s speed and claws. 

Some others, like the faun that she had just kicked, were putting up a token resistance, but that was child’s play, about as much threat to her as the noon-time ration. 

She was winning! Against an entire town! They couldn’t even touch her! It was amazing! 

Fires roared along the streets accompanied by the shouts and screams of the populace, a cacophony of chaos and destruction that answered to Catra’s beck and call. She’d already put a stop to their little attempts at bucket chains and fire fighting, leaving building after building to collapse as they were consumed by the inferno. 

No one could stop her. No one could hurt her. No one could touch her. 

She cackled all the while, revelling in the sensation. 

For once in her life, she was in control of the fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think Catra's alright guys.


	7. Burnt Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra isn't in the best frame of mind after her night with Scorpia. She hasn't been in her best frame of mind since who knows when. How very unfortunate for the town of Thaymor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Brief non-consensual nudity and Catra being not okay.
> 
> So with chapters 5 and 6 being a bit light my brain decided that I wasn't going to sleep until we got back to dark emotions. Hence the quick turn around on this chapter.
> 
> A rather more dynamic chapter I think. Probably could have split it into 2 chapters but again, after 5 and 6 I didn't feel like that was the correct approach.

The Whispering Woods were noisy, but not in the same way that the Fright Zone had been noisy. The groan of machinery and the hum of electronics had gradually faded away only to be replaced by the sounds of trees, and eerie winds, and animals creeping about in the distance. Somehow Catra found it both comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time. 

Distantly, she became aware of the fact that she was in something of a trance, her body climbing over fallen trees and ducking low hanging branches without any real input from her. 

She vaguely remembered leaving her perch from on top of the factory and breaking into the mechanics bay to steal a skiff. That had been easy. After that she had taken off towards the woods, which she was now in apparently. Somewhere along the way she had lost the skiff, it had died unexpectedly and she’d had to jump from the deck. How long ago had that been? In a way it still felt like she hadn’t left the Fright Zone at all, that at any second she could turn a corner and be back in those corridors. 

Was she really here?

Reaching out, Catra dug her claws into a nearby tree, feeling the bark and the wood beneath give purchase then yield. 

She was in the Whispering Woods. 

Oh.

Her body resumed moving without her instruction, but she felt that she didn’t mind that at the moment. She was out of the Fright Zone. Would that matter? Shadow Weaver would know that she was missing, that she’d skipped out on the rest of Scorpia’s recovery at the very least, and the witch would find her. 

Almost disinterestedly, she wondered what the witch would do to her this time. Even a thorough beating would be too small for this, but she was hardly going to be shown the mercy of an execution, not a quick one anyways. Magical bindings? Electrocution? Maybe. A bit predictable though. Realistically the witch wouldn’t be able to get away with too much, not when Hordak would want it to be public.

She blinked. Why had she thought that? Hordak only cared about traitors and deserters. 

A twig snapped beneath one of her feet and she looked down at it.

Right. She was in the Whispering Woods. She had deserted. 

\---

Catra sat up. She’d fallen asleep at some point, curled up between the exposed roots of a giant tree. The trance had faded.

With a yelp she jumped to her feet, spinning around desperately. She was deep in the Whispering Woods now, having flown in, crashed, then hiked for most of the night. Judging by the light filtering through the canopy it was sometime in the afternoon, the brightest of the moons directly overhead. 

_Shitshitshit!_ It was definitely too late to sneak back!

Would she have even wanted to?

The question catches her off guard. 

Shadow Weaver would hunt her down, and she would eventually find her, but was that really any worse that staying in the Fright Zone?

Adora was going to be a force captain. Things were supposed to get better. 

Did she really believe that?

Catra slumped to her knees. Even if things would have gotten better, how many more times would she have ended up on that factory roof before then? How many times after? Would she even have had the strength left to resist the winds pushing her over the edge by the time her friend was finally there to protect her? 

With a sigh she returned to her feet and continued walking deeper into the Whispering Woods. Part of her quietly wished that she could have said her goodbyes first, but that same part of her that knew Shadow Weaver would find her told her that she wouldn’t have been able to get the words out anyways. 

\---

The town was... small. Quaint. Studying it from afar Catra was unimpressed. There were no walls, no patrols, no visible security measures of any kind really. As far as she could tell there was literally nothing to stop her from just waltzing into the place and disrupting whatever little party they had going on right now. 

That... was actually sort of appealing in a strange way. The magicat considered that for a few seconds. She was as good as dead anyways right? Shadow Weaver had to have discovered she was missing by now. Even if the villagers had a hidden army somewhere would losing to them be any worse than what she already face? And if they didn’t have a hidden army, well, that just meant she could walk all over them.

Something burning pooled in Catra’s chest and she lets her face slide into a fanged smile. Yeah, she liked the sound of that.

\---

Catra felt more alive than she could ever remember feeling! Her sudden entrance into the town with her clearly Horde attire had caused a small panic, one which had only grown after she had taken down the first militia members to confront her. Now everything was a delicious chaos!

She ran down the streets spooking the villagers as she went. There was no sport in killing them at this point, but chasing them, hounding them through the flames and the screams, now that was sport! She laughed and flashed her claws and roared ferocious, predatory roars what would have gotten her into endless trouble back in the Fright Zone. Fear flowed through the town so thickly that she could smell it in every nook and cranny, giving away the hiding spots of every man woman and child. No one was safe from her! 

Dropping to all fours she pursued a faun girl into an alleyway, deliberately giving her prey just enough of a head start to make it interesting. 

The far end was blocked by a wall of flaming debris.

The girl was trapped. 

Catra snorted at the anti-climax and rose to her feet, fully intending to find herself another plaything when she caught the faun’s eyes, thick with tears and desperation.

“ _P-please!_ ” the girl begged, her voice barely carrying over the roar of the flames, “ _M-mercy please!_ ”

The burning feeling in Catra’s chest had long since filled out the rest of her body, giving everything an energy and enjoyment that she was drunk on, but looking into those wide, terrified eyes she felt it twist and deepen into something darker. Her violent smile widened to it’s maximum and she felt herself licking her teeth in anticipation.

“Mercy?” she asked innocently, “Oh don’t worry, _I’ll_ show you mercy.”

She stalked forwards towards the girl, her hips swaying in an all too practiced fashion. The girl for her part pressed herself up against the wall of one of the buildings trapping her, as close to the fire and as far from Catra as she could safely manage. 

“What’s the matter?” Catra cooed, drawing nearer, “Didn’t your mother ever teach you how you were supposed to act towards your betters?”

The girl cowered, curling in on herself, but Catra was having none of that. She seized the faun’s wrists with a powerful hand and forced them above the girls head.

“Didn’t she ever make it just _painfully_ clear what was expected of you?”

The faun flailed, struggling in the magicat’s grip and attempting to lash out with her legs, but Catra simply surged into the girls space, locking their hips together and pinning the faun completely against the wall. 

“Mine did.” Catra whispered, “And she made sure I’d never forget.”

The faun screamed, high and desperate as Catra’s free hand slid under the girls shirt and danced across her skin. Catra quickly tore away the girl’s shirt entirely and shifted her knees to a more advantageous position, but before she could descend on her prey the sound of a skiff engine sputtering in the distance reached her ears, forcing her to pause. 

_That- that couldn’t be Shadow Weaver right? Sure enough time had passed but-! But she wasn’t done! She was just starting to enjoy herself!_

She released the faun and stepped back, her attention suddenly elsewhere. The girl in question collapsed into a sobbing mess, attempting to cover herself and continuing to quietly beg for mercy. 

_The Horde was here. They had to be here for her. This was it. This was going to be her last living day outside a torture room or execution chamber._

Ice mixed with the heat flowing throughout Catra’s body and she roared, defiant and angry. 

_If they wanted her, they’d better be ready to die for it!_

\---

Adora throttled back the skiff as it began to sputter again, desperate to keep it from choking or stalling, but equally desperate to get to Catra before the strike force could catch up. 

She just had to get to Catra. She just had to made sure the magicat didn’t get captured. Everything else they could work out together, just like they always had!

Breaking through the last treeline, Adora nearly choked at the sight of the town. _This was Thaymor!?_ She’d been told to expect a highly fortified rebel stronghold! Sure there were supposed to be civilian structures supporting it, but this wasn’t that! This was homes and businesses and public buildings! There wasn’t even a wall or a fort!

For a panicked moment she wondered if Lonnie had been telling the truth about the rebellion razing the town to deny a potential supply line, but that panic was quickly replaced by a new one as she heard a booming, animalistic, feline roar raise over the town.

_Catra!_

Gunning the engine, Adora raced down the dirt road into the burning town, praying to the moons that her friend was alright.

\---

A lone driver on a lone skiff. 

Tension coiled and writhed throughout Catra’s body. Shadow Weaver wouldn’t have come herself, she’d never deign to leave the Fright Zone without a standing army at her back. Who would the witch trust to single handedly bring her in? Octavia? Vultak? A shadow?

Moving carefully, she jumped to a wooden rooftop and peered around the side of the structure, trying to keep herself as hidden as possible.

Stood atop the skiff was a blond figure in a red jacket. A sight that stole every trace of defiance from the magicat’s body.

_Adora._

Catra felt her grip on the roof loosen and ended up slumping down against it. 

Shadow Weaver had sent her best friend to retrieve her for execution. One last act of personal torture. 

The burning sensation she had first felt looking upon the undefended town was gone now, leaving the icy numbness to take it’s place. If Adora was here to retrieve her then no doubt the witch had already filled her head with poisonous half-truths and reassurances of leniency that would never materialize. 

Catra didn’t have the will to face that now, and she doubted that she ever would again. 

Innocent, loyal Adora, following instructions to the very end.

The magicat slid from the roof, halfheartedly landing on her feet. She knew that she should run, that she should try to avoid a confrontation with Adora at all costs, but that knowledge was heavy and bitter, and the best she could do was to slowly meander away. 

\---

Adora didn’t miss the raging fires or the way the villagers cowered away from her as she flew through the streets in search of her best friend. Something had attacked the town. Someone.

Her mind helpfully recalled the roar from a minute prior and she shuddered at the implication. Had Catra really done all this? Waged war against this village and won? Cowed maybe a hundred people or more into hiding while their livelihoods were destroyed? It almost felt too impossible, too terrible to be true, but remembering the previous night and the book on Shadow Weaver’s shelf she was struck by just how little she seemed to actually know about the people around her. Catra was the second highest scoring cadet in the entire Horde, surpassed by only Adora herself. If she had really tried, could she have done this herself?

Fortunately for Adora she didn’t have to answer that as her eyes caught a flash of feline tail slipping around the side of a nearby building. Hauling on the rudder, Adora whipped the skiff around and followed it, finding her best friend leaning heavily against the building.

“Hey... Adora...”

\---

Catra almost smiled. That was really all she could say, wasn’t it. Was there even any point in defending herself? Did she even care anymore?

“Catra...” Adora breathed, looking simultaneously relieved and horrified. 

The magicat gave an empty chuckle at that, her eyes drifting over to the nearby columns of smoke rising into the darkening sky. 

“Catra!” Adora tried again, quickly dismounting the skiff and rushing over to her, “Are you alright?”

She chuckled again.

“Alright? I haven’t been that in years Adora, why start now?”

The blond paused, her arms outstretched to take Catra’s. 

“I... I know the truth, about what Shadow Weaver’s been making you do in the infirmary...”

The words were a knife through Catra’s already empty heart. She went for another chuckle but it quickly transformed into a pained laugh mixed with a wracking sob as tears burst from her eyes. 

So it was worse than she had even dared fear. Fan-fucking-tastic! 

“ _Catra._ ” Adora pleaded, her arms closing the distance to the magicat’s shoulders, “Please, we have to go, Shadow Weaver’s sending a strike force and-”

“And what!?” Catra shouted, gaze suddenly hard, boring into Adora’s, “You’re going to rescue me now!? After everything I’ve been through just to stay at your side!?”

The words were violent and dishonest, not at all what she wanted to say, but all she could muster.

“Just go away! Become the perfect force captain and conquer the fucking world! That’s what you and Shadow Weaver want right!?”

Adora stiffened then shook her head. 

“No.” she whispered, tears in her own eyes, “I... I want you... to be alright...”

Catra glared into those pained, loving blue eyes with all the malice and the hate that she could muster, and when they didn’t flinch or recoil she felt herself break. The stream of tears flowing from her eyes became a torrent as she latched onto the blond and howled her sorrows, the weight of over a decade of colourful and inventive abuses from Shadow Weaver coming free within her.

_At least_ , she thought bitterly, digging her claws into Adora’s jacket, _At least I finally have her in my arms again. For however long it lasts._

\---

Adora carried the sobbing mess of her best friend onto the skiff, not letting go even as she fired up the engine again and began beelining it for the far end of the town. 

She wanted to feel good about the rescue, but any warmth she might have pulled from their embrace was undercut by the devastation and fearful faces they passed. Catra had hurt all these people, and now the two of them were abandoning them to a Horde strike force. It didn’t sit right with Adora. 

Maybe... maybe Lonnie and the others would help fix things? The mission had been to ‘rescue’ the town from it’s attackers, or at least that was the pretense Shadow Weaver had come up with. She looked back on the growing flames then looked down to the bundle of fur in her arms. In a way she felt that same ‘left out in the cold’ feeling as she had after Catra had started pushing her away. Why hadn’t Catra confided in her? Why hadn’t the magicat shown her how she was feeling, or told the scorpioni how she really felt? Why had it all had to come to this, with the pair of them running away from their home? She didn’t blame Catra, not after everything. Shadow Weaver had been the architect behind this tragedy, her friend had merely been the cornerstone. But still, as the the pair escaped back into the Whispering Woods she couldn’t help but question what could have been done differently, how their lives might not have fallen apart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure this isn't a powder keg waiting to blow.
> 
> Also, we might see some new faces next chapter.


	8. Road Run-in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word of an attack travels as fast in the alliance as it does the horde it would seem, and a pair of 'heroes' quickly ride out to save Thaymor. Unbeknownst to them a completely different pair is alright driving up the road to meet them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No TW this chapter. 
> 
> We're probably nearing the end of the first arc of this story, maybe 3 more chapters? Not entirely sure what I'll do after that point.
> 
> Kinda rushed this chapter due to life constraints. Only had time to rewrite it twice. Still, while not the most polished chapter I think it ended up working at what it meant to.

“Hurry up Bow!”

“We’ve got to pace ourselves Glimmer! We don’t know how many Horde soldiers we’re riding into!”

The pair raced down the old Thaymor road atop the horses they had ‘borrowed’ from the royal stables, making good time but growing more anxious as the seconds slipped by.

Glimmer gritted her teeth in determination. The initial report that they had received had said that one soldier alone was responsible for the entire attack, but that that soldier was practically untouchable. A roaring maelstrom of teeth and claws! If she and Bow could take down that soldier and save the town on their own then her mother would have to see just how capable she was and let her lead more missions! 

Bow on the other hand was more subdued as the pair rode onwards. Something didn’t feel right about this whole thing. Why had the Horde only sent a single soldier to attack a town? Even if they knew that the soldier could take on the entire town by themselves they could hardly occupy it or raze it effectively. He’d already floated the idea that it was a trap to Glimmer, but she had dismissed that thought saying, ‘ _A trap for who, Bow? I can just teleport us out of there, and they know that mom is only going to send troops to help evacuate_ ’. He didn’t necessarily disagree with her there, but all the same it didn’t sit right. 

Thaymor was fast approaching in the distance when the pair heard the humming of a skiff engine coming down the road to meet them. Only the one by the sounds of it, which would make this next part particularly easy. 

\---

Adora struggled to keep her eyes focused on the road ahead of her, having to continuously snap her gaze away from her best friend. Catra had since grown still in her arms, her sobs briefly replaced by a weak mewling before disappearing entirely, and it was all Adora could do not to give into tears herself at the silence. 

They were going to be okay. They were together again and no one could hurt them. 

Suddenly they were very much not okay as someone shouted “Horde Soldiers!” and ball of pink and purple sparkles slammed into Adora’s face, blinding her. 

With a panicked yelp the blond hauled back on the skiffs control rod, throwing them into a skid that stole her feet out from under her. 

Adora and Catra tumbled off the craft, rolling together on the dirt, Adora coming up swinging with her staff wildly, Catra looking around completely bewildered. 

Two figures were charging them, one with a bow and arrow, the other with glowing fists. 

Adora snapped into action without so much as a first thought, diving out of the way of another ball of sparkles and counter-charging what had to be a princess. She whipped out her collapsible staff, striking at the magical girl only for the princess in question to suddenly disappear in a flash of light, reappearing behind her and blasting her with more sparkly magic. The blond didn’t even get the chance to recover from that blast when an arrow knocked the staff out of her hands.

Spinning around she saw Catra, still sitting where she had been thrown, now with a rope tied around her, and the pair of attackers standing between them.

With a burst of determination Adora raised her fists into a Horde boxing stance and shouted, “Get out of here Catra! I’ll buy you some time!”

“Neither of you are going anywhere!” the shorter of the two attackers shouted, raising her own glowing fists in response. 

The magicat slowly raised her head to face her friend.

“Just... stop, Adora.” 

The words were husky and tired, but their resignation only galvanizing the blond.

“No! I’m not going to sit back and let bad things happen to you anymore Catra! I know I didn’t do enough before! I didn’t see how evil Shadow Weaver was being to you! But I know now and I’m putting and end to it! No one gets to hurt you anymore! Not while I’m still standing!”

Catra’s expression twisted, another sob wracking her body and she bared her teeth.

“Don’t you get it!” the magicat shouted, “It’s already too late! I’m already too messed up and Shadow Weaver’s just going to kill me anyways! Just-!” her voice cracked, and she continued quieter, “Just let me go Adora... don’t get yourself killed trying to save me.”

\---

Bow really wasn’t sure what was happening right now. The ambush he and Glimmer had setup had gone off almost flawlessly, crashing the skiff and putting the occupants at a serious disadvantage, but the Horde soldiers in question seemed to have other issue they were working through at the moment. He glanced over to Glimmer who seemed to be equally at a loss. 

“Umm” he stared, the blond’s gaze snapping towards him, “Sorry, are you two not part of the group attacking Thaymor?”

“We’re-” the blond, Adora, begun.

“I did.” the catgirl, Catra, interrupted, “I attacked Thaymor and set the fires. She had nothing to do with it.”

Both Glimmer and Adora tensed up at the confession, their eyes meeting in a challenge over what would happen next. 

“Then you’re coming with us to Brightmoon!” Glimmer declared smugly, “To answer for your crimes!”

Adora charged the princess, shouting “You’re not taking her anywhere!” 

Bow snapped his weapon back to a firing position in an instant, but the soldier had already closed the distance, forcing Glimmer to teleport away again. However, this time when the princess reappeared to counterattack the blond had kept moving, her charge carrying her to the restrained catgirl. 

Adored grabbed Catra bodily in both arms and hauled her friend over her shoulder, taking them both into the woods before Bow could draw a bead or Glimmer could regroup. 

\---

Catra sliced through the binding holding her and tried to push herself out of Adora’s grip. 

“Adora! Adora stop! You saw the sparkly one teleporting around, you’re not going to be able to outrun her!”

The blond only tightened her grip.

“I meant what I said Catra! If anyone wants to hurt you they’re going to have to go through me!”

There was too much certainty in Adora’s words. Too much fire, too much determination. Catra knew she wasn’t going to be able to stop the blond, a fact that filled her fractured heart with equal parts joy and sorrow. _She could have told Adora of her suffering at any time and her friend would have dropped everything to help. Adora would have fought princesses and horde soldiers alike to keep her safe. And she would have lost._

The blond cared for her in the way that she had always secretly hoped, a way completely outside of Fright Zone teachings and regulations. But that only meant the truth would have destroyed her. In all likelihood Adora had only scratched the surface of what was being done to Catra before making up her mind, otherwise she would have known she was fighting for a lost cause. A pathetic, broken creature. 

Still, even as Catra fought and pleaded with her best friend to let her go, there was nothing more that she could have ever wanted in the world than to continue feeling that grip tight around her, and the safety that it promised. Adora was her best friend, her hero, but Catra knew that Adora was going to get hurt if she insisted on protecting the magicat. 

\---

Adora lost track of how long she’d been running. Since sneaking into the air vents the previous night her life had seemingly devolved into a nonstop marathon of action and emotion, continuously pushing her forwards with devastating new revelations. Actually running through the woods with her best friend in her arms was a refreshing change of pace compared to everything leading up to it, but all the same she could feel herself flagging. 

Except... something else was driving her on, she could feel something more than her promise to Catra giving her strength. As the blond ran deeper into the woods it began to feel like something was pulling her forwards like a magnet. The woods themselves almost seemed to fold and bend, rearranging the ground beneath her feet as if she was running along the deck of a moving skiff. 

The pair burst out into a clearing, Adora skidding to a stop just in front of an outcropping of roots. Catra finally managed to struggle free of the blond’s grip but Adora barely noticed the sudden change. 

Entangled in the centre of the root outcropping was a sword, and without thinking Adora reached out to touch it.

\---

Glimmer was practically snarling as she sprinted after the pair of Horde soldiers, teleporting where she could, but unable to catch up to them without exhausting her powers. Of all the dirty tricks! Faking an emotional breakdown like that then running off! She really shouldn’t have expected any better from the most evil force on the planet, but come on! That was low even for them!

Suddenly there was a flash of light from deeper into the forest and a startled yelp that sounded like the catgirl. Snarl turning to a grin, Glimmer teleported one more time, reappearing at the edge of a clearing. The blond and the catgirl had apparently changed roles for their act this time as the blond was collapsed on the ground and her friend was trying to help her. Glimmer didn’t hesitate, throwing a sparkle-bomb at the catgirl and knocking her back.

“Ha!” she shouted, “You’re not getting away from me that easy horde scum!”

\---

Catra recovered quickly, wiping the sparkles from her eyes and dodging the next two blasts that followed. Adora was down, unconscious, and still holding that crazy random sword. The sparkle princess was shouting something but Catra didn’t have time to listen to that, she had to help Adora. With no cover in the clearing she’d be hard pressed to carry Adora to safety like the blond had carried her, that meant she had to go on the attack. Catra roared at her attacker and charged, nimbly side-stepping the sparkle-bombs being thrown her way. She could hear the other rebel, the archer, still trying to catch up, that gave her only a few seconds to get this right. She pounced at the princess, unphased when her prey teleported away. Instead, she caught herself on her hands, twisted around, and threw herself back into the air, slashing as the princess reappeared just behind where she had been. 

The girl screamed and teleported further away, this time clutching her arm when she reappeared. Four deep gashes of red stood out against her tanned skin, quickly overflowing with blood that stained the girls pink and purple attire. 

An arrow streak from the treeline faster than Catra had anticipated it would, and in an instant she was tied up again as the arrow burst into ropes. 

But before her claws could shred another set of restraints a familiar voice rung out through the clearing.

“For the honour, of Greyskull!”

\---

There was light. But more than that there was peace. It was a strange peace, one that Adora had never felt before. It wasn’t the peace of having completed a long day of work and curling up with the ones you love. Rather, it was a peace born from a lack of chaos. There was simply no room for anything else in this peace. How strange.

Adora opened her eyes and took in the clearing before her. The princess, the rebel, and the magicat were all staring at her. She was holding the sword. Somehow, it was smaller in her hand than it had been when she’d first found it, but that didn’t matter right now. With a complete sureness of self, Adora walked over to Catra and cleanly cut the ropes off of her with a single slash, the blade never so much as touching the magicat’s fur.

Catra stared up at her, pupils blown wide, “Adora...” she breathed.

Suddenly, under that gaze, reality snapped back into focus all at once. With a yelp, Adora stumbled backwards, completely disoriented by the size and proportion of her new body. _She was massive, completely dwarfing Catra! What was she doing!? She didn’t know how to use a sword!_

There was another flash of light and Adora sunk to her knees, suddenly back in her old body, the sword hanging loosely in one hand. Before she could even begin to process what had just happened or that strange, empty peace she had experience the sword was wrenched out of her hand by the princess who teleported back to beside the archer. 

“What was that!?” the princess screamed, clutching the sword tightly to her chest.

Adora couldn’t handle this.

“What did you do to me!?”

“What do you mean what did I do to you!?”

“I didn’t know being a princess was contagious!”

The archer stepped in, holding up a hand to both of them. “Okay! Okay, everyone calm down!” his voice squeaked.

When neither Adora nor the princess shouted him down he continued in a calmer tone, “You wanna tell us how you did that?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Adora pressed, “All I did was pick up the sword and then whoosh! I’m in a tiara!”

The princess took a step forward, pressing back “I don’t care how she did it! We just have to make sure she never does it again!”

A clawed hand suddenly curled around the princess’s throat from behind. 

“Touch her and there’s going to be one less princess in the world.” Catra hissed. 

The princess disappeared in an instant, this time reappearing behind the archer.

“We wont be intimidated! C’mon Bow, we can take these two!”

“What about the strike force that’s on it’s way to Thaymor to capture us?”

All heads turned to Adora who had since risen to her feet, a new steeliness in her eyes.

“What?” the archer gasped.

“Catra was being tortured by the Horde and ran away, when I found out she was here I followed to warn her. Our commanding officer has mobilized a Horde strike force to capture her, along with the town of Thaymor. We don’t have long before they arrive and begin canvasing the area for us.”

“No, No! We are not falling for one of your tricks again!” the princess shouted, stamping her foot, “Your friend already admitted to being the one to attack Thaymor in the first place! We’re not going to get distracted by another fake sob story!”

“She’s not lying.” Catra said softly, “Shadow Weaver won’t rest until she’s killed me in the most painful way she can imagine. That’s why I attacked Thaymor. Because it didn’t matter anymore.”

Adora began to move to her best friend but Catra held up a clawed hand to stop her.

“That’s also why you need to get out of here Adora. If she finds out you’ve been helping me she’ll punish you to.”

The blond clenched her fists.

“I won’t let that happen Catra!”

“You can’t stop it okay! I wont die knowing that you’ll have to suffer through what she did to me!”

\---

Glimmer wasn’t falling for it. She raised her good arm and got ready to strike but was stopped when Bow placed a hand on her shoulder. 

“Hey.” the archer called, getting the two soldiers attentions, “Can we back up a bit?”

Glimmer groaned. Was he seriously going to insist on hearing them out!?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, he was going to insist on hearing them out. We can probably skip that though.


	9. Wounds Carried, Wounds Dealt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adora gives an abbreviated summary of how she and Catra came to leave the Horde, and the pair agree to help defend Thaymor from the oncoming Horde assault. But Catra isn't a mess for nothing, and old wounds rear their ugly heads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Non-consensual sex, emotional triggering, minor suicidal bits, and a minor character death.
> 
> I think I've put more thought, effort, and time into this chapter than any other two combined, and given the chance I'd probably keep rewriting it until the end of time. I'm putting it out to stop myself from doing that.
> 
> It's as non-explicit as possible but if you don't want to read the worst of the dark stuff then skip the paragraphs written in italics. There are two of them and they probably contain the worst this entire story has to offer until I eventually tackle the 'corrections'.

Adora stumbled a bit during her explanation. Obviously this princess wasn’t anything like what the Horde had told her to expect, or had her go up against in the simulations, but all the same she wasn’t just going to share her and Catra’s life stories with the girl. She started with her search for her missing friend. That led her to waiting in her commanding officers quarters for the magicat to be brought in for a punishment she didn’t deserve. From there it was easy enough to skip ahead to her discovery of Shadow Weaver’s log book, though at a look from Catra she kept the details of it’s contents to herself. After that, well, she’d heard about the upcoming mission and stole the first skiff she could get her hands on. 

The princess, her arm bandaged by Bow during the story, did not look impressed.

“So let me get this straight,” Glimmer began, “Your friend went missing for a day and that instantly opened your eyes to how evil the Horde was, to the point were you were able to tell that an entire attack was actually just a cover to recapture her.”

“There was more too it than that.” Adora defended weakly.

“Oh right, like the fact that said friend instantly turned around and attacked an innocent town as soon as she was free!” The princess snapped.

“I’m not exactly what you’d call ‘free’ Sparkles.” Catra drawled from the tree she was leaning on. “In case you missed it, the person responsible for raising me is literally mobilizing an army to capture me and have me executed. The town was just a last bit of catharsis on the way out.”

Glimmer scowled and opened her mouth to retort but was beat to the punch by Adora speaking up in a slow, quiet voice.

“The Horde... we were supposed to be the good guys... We were supposed to saving Etheria, freeing it from magical tyrants... but... after Catra went missing and I read Shadow Weaver’s log book... I think the only magical tyrant that needs to be stopped is Shadow Weaver. If someone like her is the second-in-command then... no one in the Horde can be on the right side of things.”

All three sets of eyes rested on the blond in the moment of silence that followed. Catra took some small comfort in her friends realization, content in that knowledge that she wouldn’t have to rip that bandaid off herself. Bow tried not to tear up as the girl clearly came to accept a hard truth for her. Glimmer tried to keep scowling but found she couldn’t sustain her frustration and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with one hand. 

“Alright, let’s pretend I believe all that. Catra is still responsible for attacking Thaymor, and unless we do something about it right now, the Horde will move in and make things even worse!”

“There’s no stopping them.” Catra called again, “Probably best to just slit my throat and leave my body out for them.”

Bow blanched, sputtering for a moment before looking at the magicat in complete shock. 

“How can you just say that!?” 

“Years of _character building_.” the magicat replied sarcastically. 

“We are not letting that happen Catra!” Adora shouted, moving to pin Catra against the tree, “We’re going to save Thaymor, and we are going to keep you safe!”

“And how are you going to do that!?” Catra pressed back, her face less than an inch from Adora’s, “By obeying all the rules and asking Shadow Weaver nicely!?”

Glimmer teleported beside the pair and forced them apart.

“Alright! No more emotional break downs until we save Thaymor! You!” she shouted, turning to Catra, “We’re trying to stop the people hunting you down, so you could at least try to be helpful! And you!” she turned to Adora, “have yet to explain the magic sword transformation!”

Adora took a deep breath and matched the princess’s glare. 

“When I touched the sword I _think_ I had a vision.” she began, “There was a lot of light, and some patterns, and what looked like a person? It was confusing. All I really remember for certain was a voice telling me to bring balance to Etheria, and then asking me if I would fight ‘for the honour of Greyskull’. That’s it.”

“Who or what is Greyskull?” the archer asked.

“I have no idea. I just said the words, and whoosh, tiara.”

“Can you do it again? To help fight the strike force?”

“Bow!” Glimmer shouted, rounding on her friend, “We are not giving a First Ones weapon to a pair of Horde soldiers!”

“Glimmer, if they’re telling the truth we’re going to need all the help we can get. Even if your powers were still fully charged there’s no was we could take down a strike force by ourselves.”

“Your powers have to be recharged?” Catra cackled.

“Who are the First Ones?” Adora asked quietly.

“Bow!” the princess shouted, a bit red in the face.

“We should at very least find out if she can do it again.” the archer defended.

With a groan, Glimmer held the handle of the blade out to Adora, letting the blond reclaim it temporarily.

Swallowing down her nerves, the Adora hefted the blade into the air as she had the first time.

“For the honour of Greyskull?”

Nothing happened.

Catra and Glimmer shared a huff.

“Well,” Bow tried, “I’m sure the four of us can come up with a plan.”

“You already have my perspective.” Catra grumbled, sliding down the tree into a sitting position.

Adora clenched the hilt of the sword in both hands, her gaze locking on her friend. “We **will** save Thaymor and we **will** get you to safety Catra. We made each other a promise, remember?”

The magicat met Adora’s gaze then looked away with another huff before unfolding herself slightly.

“Alright.” Catra replied, “Then what’s the plan?”

\---

Thaymor had just barely begun to get the fires under control when the ground began to rumble. 

The quartet were hidden beside the road on the Horde-side of town, having settled on a plan of attack. Catra was reluctant to go along with it, but Adora had made it perfectly clear that she wouldn’t leave the magicat to her fate. Still, as the sound of tank engines grew in the distance, Catra turned to her friend for what would probably be the last time. 

“Adora, when they catch me you don’t try to save me, got it? You run. No hero bullshit. Not for me.”

The blond turned to her, a fire in her eyes.

“We’re all getting through this Catra. No giving up.”

\---

Catra watched as the first Horde tanks burst through the treeline and into the clearing surrounding Thaymor. Standard Horde doctrine dictated ten tanks to a strike force and sure enough the emerging column stood two by five. At least she could count on her executioners to be predictable. 

She didn’t wait for Adora to give the signal. The instant Catra saw the tenth tank she was moving, sprinting out of cover to leap on top of the war machine with abandon. It was a mad, desperate plan, the kind of thing you came up with as a joke instead of a legitimate strategy, but here they were. 

Catra cut open the tank’s command hatch and plunged inside, taking the crew by storm. Them dealt with she grabbed the driving controls and rammed the tank beside her, forcing it off the road where it quickly became entangled by the woods. She could only imagine the chaos going on outside as Adora and the pair of rebels pulled similar manoeuvres on the rest of the tanks, stopping the armoured column in it’s tracks. 

There was no universe in which any of this should have worked. 

Sure, taking the rear tanks first meant the rest of the tanks had to rotate their turrets around before they could fire on them, and okay, teleportation was a pretty awesome cheat to have in a situation like this, but this was stupid! 

She shredded the controls in a few quick swipes then was outside and busting the hatch of the next tank in line. 

If the soldiers riding the skiffs were this much of a pushover then maybe Catra wasn’t as dead as she thought.

\---

Catra was definitely as dead as she had thought. 

The skiffs had opted to run the gauntlet of ruined tanks instead of stopping for a fight, forcing the gang to chase them back into Thaymor. By the time the four had gotten there the town was somehow even more a maelstrom of chaos than Catra had left it. Where earlier the villagers had hidden in their basements and cellars from the mad magicat now they fled through the streets, chased by Horde soldiers with stun batons. Sounds of battle and panic filled the air, though to call it battle was being generous. The town militia had already been broken. All that was left were families desperate to escape.

Amidst the chaos Catra somehow lost track of and had been separated from the others. Adora presumably was having trouble fighting with her new sword, Glimmer had probably spent too much of her power, and Bow no doubt was having to run like a madman because he brought a bow to a baton fight. 

She smirked at the mental image only to grimace as a lucky strike clipped her leg. This fight was getting too drawn-out to manage effectively, and despite being in her element Catra felt none of the thrill she had when first attacking Thaymor. 

Delivering a spin kick to the twerp who clipped her, Catra was able to gain some distance and quickly take stock of the situation. 

None of the soldiers surrounding her pursued. 

Catra blinked at them, confused, only to have that feeling replaced with an overpowering sense of dread as hulking figure pushed it’s way to the front.

Force Captain Octavia. 

“Hey kitty, you ready to play?”

\---

 _It was Catra’s fourth shift in the infirmary. All three of her previous shifts had ended early and been followed up by_ corrections _. Shadow Weaver had insisted she not require a fourth. Catra’s body ached, her nerves throbbing from invasion of the witch’s magic. With the exception of her hands, which she could barely move, Catra wasn’t physically hurt all too badly, but that was only because the witch knew that this particular ‘patient’ had a score to settle after the ‘poor performance’ of their previous session._

_Waiting on that infirmary bed with a freshly bandaged set of claw marks on her chest was Force Captain Octavia, a cruel, knowing smile on her face._

_“Hey kitty, you ready to play?”_

\---

The burly fish-woman gives Catra a one-eyed leer, that same cruel, knowing smile on her face. It’s a look that freezes Catra down to her bones and awakes a crippling pain in her hands, like they’d never work again.

“You finally go wild like Shadow Weaver always said you would?”

Catra’s eyes narrow to slits. Bearing her teeth so hard it hurts her jaw, she builds up a growl in her chest and roars a deafening, ear-splitting roar before charging the force captain.

Octavia simply laughs. 

“Don’t worry. I’m sure Shadow Weaver and I can find a way to make you play nice again.”

Catra pounces, claws fully extended, diving straight at the fish-woman’s throat, but Octavia had the whole charge to see it coming. Moving deftly, the fish-woman side-steps the pounce and catches one of the magicat’s wrists out of the air, swinging the smaller girl around and slamming her into a wall. The blow shocks Catra out of her anger, but before she can so much as catch the wind knocked out of her Octavia is slamming her against the wall again. The force captain slams her against the stone structure for a third time, so hard that Catra can start to feel her body going limp from the pain. 

“Aww, I wasn’t too rough for the kitty, was I?” the fish-woman mocks. 

Catra tries to growl again but a hand suddenly closes around her throat and Octavia raises her into the air so that her feet are off the ground, choking her. 

“Too bad.” she growls in return, “Cause I don’t do gentle.”

The fish-woman’s lips engulf hers.

\---

_Catra is trapped against the infirmary bed. Her hands, which had already felt like they had been broken, were now pinned above her head. A body is moving against hers, forcing her to move along with it, and a foul tasting kiss is stealing the air from her lungs. Every instinct in her body is telling her to fight back, to push through the pain and to tear her attacker to ribbons, but she doesn’t move. She cries bitter tears and shifts as far away as she can shift, but she knows better than to fight back._

_Octavia’s ‘foreplay’ had left her with bruises all up and down her body, and now the older woman was moving in to take what was left from the wreckage._

_It was the first infirmary shift Catra would get through without a_ correction _afterwards, but it wouldn’t be the last._

\---

It was all too familiar. The taste of the woman’s mouth. The pain wracking her body. All of it. Catra was angry. She could feel herself being angry, but the feeling was muted. Buried. Anger never worked. Shadow Weaver just hit her harder, burned her deeper, took more and more of her strength away. Anger was no cure, no escape. It was a curse.

The witch’s words filled her ears. 

_This is all you’re good for. Worthless. This is all you’ll ever be. Pathetic. She will never be yours. Animal._

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as the kiss deepened and the hand around her throat tightened. 

_ Maybe... this was... what she deserved... for being bad... _

\---

It felt as if the world itself was screaming. 

Adora stood stalk still, her eyes locked on the scene before her. 

Catra’s body slammed against the wall for a third time. And then, with all the courtesy of an invading army, Octavia rammed her lips against the magicats. 

Colour filled Adora’s vision. First red, then white. 

There was no consideration of the battlefield. There was no burning need to protect Thaymor. There was only anger.

Adora raised her sword.

“ **For the honour, of Greyskull!** ”

\---

Octavia was forced to drop her toy as a light brighter than the moons themselves exploded from a few streets down. She tried to shield her eyes against the light but it was over-powering, disintegrating any shade her hands could provide. Then, as the light dissipated, she began to be able to make out a figure moving towards her. There was a flash of movement, and then a sudden, debilitating pain as her right hand was cut cleanly from her arm. Octavia screamed and fell backwards, clutching at the bloody stump. From all around her came a fresh wave of screams as her troops broke and fled, but all she could focus on was the figure towering above. An amazonian built woman dressed in white and gold, shining like a beacon, and very, very unhappy. 

The figure began to raise it’s sword again and Octavia scrambled backwards against the ground, desperately trying to put some distance between herself and the radiant soldier. Her movements seemed to get her nowhere as the warrior effortlessly closed the distance, plunging the sword into the meet of Octavia’s calf. 

The fish-woman howled again, clutching at the wound, pinned to the ground by the blade. She was bleeding heavily from two wounds now, but her attacker wasn’t finishing her. Instead the woman glared down at her with a vitriol that could have melted steel.

Octavia opened her mouth in one final challenge, but before the words could pass her lips there was a blur of orange and everything faded to black.

\---

Adora blinked. 

Octavia was dead, a set of claw marks across her throat. 

She turned slightly to look at where Catra had landed from her pounce, the magicat remaining low on all fours. 

For a moment she thought Catra might run, but instead the girl’s head snapped up to the blond and the two locked gazes. 

Etched there on that face were tears shed and unshed, and pains long overlooked, and a deep, pitiful resignation that cut Adora to her soul. 

Catra did not run. She collapsed, and curled up into a ball. 

Adora stepped forwards, She-ra’s form melting off of her, and she hugged that ball. She hugged it until her arms were numb and there were no more tears left to shed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brain fried a lot while trying to make this. It's fried right now as I upload it. Let's all dream of a better world were we don't have to watch magicats suffer, and the ones we care about are always there for us.
> 
> Might take a few days break before writing the next chapter.


	10. The rocky road to Brightmoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smoke rises over Thaymor, the city damaged but still standing. It's been a long day all around but it isn't quite over yet. Glimmer and Bow still have to get their new allies back to Brightmoon. Hopefully without more shouting at each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No TW for this chapter. 
> 
> So I took a day to recover after that last chapter, but then I had to take another day to ramp back up into writing with momentum. Throw in remembrance/veterans/armistice day and that’s why this chapter took a while despite being relatively light and unpolished. 
> 
> Still, as hard as it is to follow up a bombshell chapter, it’s important. Stories are nothing if they don’t fulfill the arc they set for themselves in one way or another.

Glimmer was completely spent. Well, almost completely. If a bed were placed in front of her right now she would collapse into it no questions asked. Her body was sore all over from fighting, her powers were totally used up, and to top it all off she’d witnessed something that made her feel sick to her stomach. It was that last one that stopped her from being completely spent. 

The way that fish-woman had man-handled Catra, that cruelty, _that kiss!_ Bile rose up in the back of Glimmer’s throat just thinking about it.

She’d been keeping an eye on the magicat ever since they’d all agreed to work together, never fully trusting the catgirl to side with them despite the blond’s vouching. Of course, she’d never expected to see _that_.

Was this... what Catra had been talking about earlier? About not wanting the same to happen to Adora? Was this what Adora had alluded to when tip-toeing around Catra’s ‘undeserved punishments’ earlier? 

That though almost had Glimmer doubling over with nausea. 

The magicat had just... stopped when the kiss had been forced onto her, all her strength and speed and fury seeming to disappear in an instant. She’d been... scared... trembling even. 

Despite having only known Catra for about an hour, Glimmer could already tell that the emotion didn’t fit the catgirl at all. 

_What exactly had the Horde done to Catra before she’d left? Did she even want to know?_

She turned to watch the pair, still huddled together not three feet from the slowly cooling corpse of the fish-woman. The magicat looked so small curled up like that, and the look on the blond’s face made Glimmer feel a mess of different emotions.

“Hey” Bow called gently, jogging over to her, “I managed to find the mayor. He’s gathered all the villagers together in the woods and they’re getting ready to begin surveying the town for damages.”

When the princess didn’t respond he followed her gaze over to the pair of ex-Horde soldiers and sighed, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“It might be best if we set out before the villagers get back. I don’t think it would go to well if they caught sight of those uniforms.”

“Should we really take them with us Bow?” Glimmer asked quietly.

The archer looked to her. “They need our help Glimmer.” he said sombrely.

“I know that, I just mean... we can’t make them prisoners, not after they helped us. But Catra...” she trailed off.

The pair were silent for another few moments, simply watching Adora try to comfort her friend who seemed to be beyond consoling. 

“Angella will know what to do.” Bow said finally, though his voice betrayed his uncertainty.

“I really hope so Bow.” Glimmer conceded, “I really hope so.”

\---

Adora tried to get Catra to uncurl, coaxing her with soft noises and gentle hands, but the magicat refused to budge. Eventually, she was forced to simply pick up her friend, cradling the girl in her arms as the rebels led her back across the ruins of the town.

It was surreal to be able to properly take in the devastation as they walked. Houses and other structures were simply gone in some places, reduced to piles of debris by fires or explosives. In other areas the wreckage painted a more grisly picture of what was lost; a market turned to splinters and ash, a festival ground trampled and destroyed. 

Adra faltered for a moment, her boot bumping against a discarded doll that some child had undoubtedly dropped during the chaos. 

These were peoples lives, peoples homes, peoples families, damaged, destroyed, gone. She might have been part of it. She would have been part of it if she had listened to Lonnie. Would she have listened to Lonnie if she hadn’t known about Catra?

_“The rebel are razing one of their own towns, Thaymor, to deny us a potential supply line. Shadow Weavers’ having us intervene to liberate the populous and save the town.”_

A lump grew in the blond’s throat. Phrased like that, she would have volunteered in a heart beat. She wouldn’t even have questioned it. 

But that raised another issue. 

Catra.

Adora held her curled up friend a bit tighter as she continued walking. Knowing Catra, the magicat had probably just sauntered into Thaymor like it was nothing and then started throwing punches as soon as someone called her out on being Horde. 

_“Because it didn’t matter anymore.”_

_“The town was just a last bit of catharsis on the way out.”_

How could the villagers lives have simply meant nothing to her? Or was she really that detached from everything. 

Adora clenched her jaw.

It wasn’t fair to say that this was Catra’s fault! Sure, the magicat had done it, but Shadow Weaver was the one who had made her this way! Pushed her this far! The Catra Adora knew cared about things! Cared about people! She never did something without a reason!

But looking down to the bundle in her arms, Adora was reminded that this girl might not be the Catra that she knew, that she might not have really seen that Catra for two and a half years. 

It hurt to consider, but the way the magicat had looked at her after killing Octavia... Adora wasn’t sure she recognized those eyes. 

\---

Getting Catra onto one of the horses proved to be the hardest part. Given that there were only the two horses and four riders there was to be a certain amount of sharing involved, though all parties already knew who was riding with who. The main difficulty was that Adora simultaneously refused to put down Catra, and refused to let anyone else hold her, stipulations which made the mounting process just about impossible. Eventually, through the use of a convenient boulder, the blond was able to sit down in the saddle and coax the magicat into the more manageable position of riding backwards with her head tucked against Adora’s chest.

That settled, the quartet began to ride. 

They didn’t even manage to make it back to the skiff crash before being intercepted. 

Coming down the road to meet the riders was a column of Brightmoon soldiers, a very determined looking General Juliet at the front. Each party stopped when they caught sight of the other, Glimmer and Adora reining in their horses, the soldiers abruptly coming to a halt. The pause only lasted an instant though as Juliet immediately double timed her company up to the wayward princess. 

“Princess Glimmer,” the dark-skinned general called, “Queen Angella has ordered us to fetch you, and to asses the condition of Thaymor.”

Glimmer frowned at the ordering of the objectives. _Of course they were only here for her, and not to, y’know, fight the Horde_. The princess didn’t have to long to stew on that however as one of the other soldiers in the company pointed a finger at the other horse and began to shout. 

“General! Horde soldiers!”

“Don’t!” Glimmer snapped, but it was too late, a half dozen soldiers already having moved to form a half-circle around Adora and Catra.

Bow quickly dismounted from behind Glimmer and moved to impose himself between the soldiers and the deserters, exclaiming, “They’re with us, they helped us save Thaymor!”

The semi-circle of soldiers didn’t budge, their staffs pointing at their supposed enemy. 

“You need to step aside Bow.” one called

“For the honour of Greyskull!”

Glimmer quickly covered her eyes at the words, though the light ended up being significantly less intense than it had been during Adora’s transformation in Thaymor. However, this time when the light faded the golden warrior version of Adora was sitting atop a... rainbow winged unicorn? 

Everyone stared for a moment before the soldiers half surrounding Adora and Catra quickly fell back and General Juliet cleared her throat, looking to Glimmer for an explanation. 

Glimmer needed a minute. 

_What the moons did Adora just do to that horse!?_

It was only when Bow nudged her leg that the princess snapped back to attention, clearing her own throat and speaking in her most courtly voice. 

“General, allow me to introduce to you Princess Adora and her companion, Catra. They were instrumental in helping to defend Thaymor against a Horde strike force and I have invited them back to Brightmoon so that they can rest. Please spare some of your soldiers to escort us, while you continue on to Thaymor to help the villagers with their recovery.”

\---

Adora was laser focused on the general after her transformation, one hand curled defensively around Catra, the other gripping the hilt of the sword so hard that her knuckles probably would have been white if she were in her old body. Glimmer was saying something in what sounded like a superior tone but Adora was only half listening, her gaze locked on the dark-skinned woman at the head of the company of soldiers. If there was going to be a fight she was going to take out the head of the formation first.

At the word ‘companion’ though Catra’s claws suddenly pricked into Adora’s back and the magicat shuddered and shrunk in on herself, whimpering. 

The change stole Adora’s attention away from everything else, wrenching her eyes off of the general and to her friend.

“Hey... hey...” she whispered, pressing forwards at Catra’s withdrawal, “Everything’s going to be okay... I won’t let anyone touch you.”

The magicat continued to whimper, but there was only so far she could shy away while remaining in the saddle. Ultimately Adora managed to coax the girl back to her chest, trying her best to keep reassuring her.

When Adora’s gaze snapped back up to the general she found the older woman studying her carefully, eyes occasionally dipping to the magicat pressed against her. Adora returned the look with a glare, challenging the general to say something.

Glimmer cleared her throat.

“General?”

“Right” the older woman responded, “You six,” she said, turning to the soldiers behind her, “Escort Princess Glimmer and her people. The rest of you with me, we’ll report back to Brightmoon tomorrow with a thorough assessment of Thaymor.”

The six soldiers in question quickly stepped out of the formation and allowed the rest to pass before forming up around the pair of horses. And with that the journey to Brightmoon continued.

\---

_I won’t let anyone touch you._

_Her companion, Catra._

_She will never be yours._

_Hey kitty, you ready to play?_

_If anyone wants to hurt you they’re going to have to go through me!_

_You’re not getting away from me that easy horde scum!_

_I... I want you... to be alright..._

It was all a mess. Everything hurt, or pulled at her heart strings, or reminded her of something else, and she didn’t know to deal with any of it. The figure against her was simultaneously warm and familiar, but also warped by magic. Warped, just like everything else in Catra’s life. 

This couldn’t be the same world everyone else experienced. They wouldn’t have survived. She wasn’t even sure she had survived, or if this was all just some last illusion before death. It was too tiring to think about, and she wasn’t sure she even cared. 

Horde Scum? Born and raised. Adora’s companion? In some of her more lurid dreams maybe. Love? Lust? Hate? Pain? They all almost felt the same at this point. All she knew for certain was that it all hurt just a little bit less when cradled in those arms, as warped and unfamiliar as they may be. So she stayed. One last rest in Adora’s embrace. 

\---

Queen Angella was waiting for them as they rode up to castle Brightmoon, and Glimmer had to hide a wince at her mothers stern expression. 

But as the group rode closer that stern expression changed to a quizzical one as the queen took in the other, much more colourful horse, then moved to shock when she took in the other horse’s rider. 

Not hiding her smugness at the sudden turn around, Glimmer rode up to the palace steps, raising an arm in presentation.

“Mother, may I introduce-” she began.

“She-ra.” the queen breathed. 

The name echoed in Adora’s head, somehow familiar. Had she heard it before? Maybe in a dream. _Maybe in a vision_. Either way she took that as her cue and dismounted, still holding Catra to her chest. 

“Your majesty.” The blond replied, kneeling.

The queen almost seemed to enter a trance as the amazon returned her words, slowly beginning to walk down the palace steps, stopping on the last one as if hesitant to stand on the same roadway as the golden warrior.

“I know the legend of the warrior the First Ones called She-ra. They said that she would return to us in the hour of our greatest need and bring balance to Etheria. I never thought that she was anything more than a myth. And yet here you are now.”

_Bring balance to Etheria._

Another set of echoes chorused in Adora’s head. The blond blinked away the sudden deja-vu only to realize the queen was still looking at her. 

“I...” Adora began, then faltered. 

What was she supposed to say? All she’d been able to think about for the last day was-

Adora looked down at the girl in her arms, then back up to the queen, her resolve refreshed in an instant.

“Your majesty.” She began again, firmer, “I don’t know if I am who you think I am, but I’ve seen for myself the atrocities the Horde has committed against the people of Etheria, and I’m ready to fight to stop them. If you give me a chance I know I can help the rebellion turn the tide of the war.”

There was a sudden air of suspicion about the queen, her almost awed gaze quickly schooling back to regal detachment.

“You do not know? If you are not She-ra then who are you?”

Adora glanced to Glimmer who caught the look, paused, then gave a subtle nod in return. At that Adora let the form of She-ra slip off of her again, revealing her bright red jacket.

Queen Angella gasped and retreated a step back.

“You are from the Horde?” 

“I left, your majesty, and I’ll never go back.”

The queen paused at this, drawing herself up to her full height and examining the kneeling blond from her vantage point on the palace steps. No emotion crossed her face, but after only a few seconds she spoke again, questioning, but not challenging.

“You would pledge to stand with us against those you once served?”

Adora nodded.

“And you Glimmer, you would vouch for her?”

Glimmer nodded.

The queen’s gaze returned to Adora.

“Then rise, She-ra, princess of power.”

Adora let out a sigh of relief and began to rise to her feet, only to almost fall over at the forgotten extra weight of her friend. 

Angella’s gaze snapped to the magicat as if seeing the girl for the first time, and she frowned. 

“And who is-” the queen began.

“Adora’s friend Catra,” Glimmer interrupted quickly dismounting and taking her mother by the arm, “They’re both pretty worn out from a long day so maybe it would be best if Bow showed them to their rooms now?”

“Hold on-”

“Great, great!” the princess interrupted again, beginning to pull her mother away and gesturing desperately at Bow. “We’ll just leave them to it while I explain to you about Thaymor in the gardens!”

\---

The queen forced her daughter to halt as soon as they were around the first corner. 

“Glimmer! I don’t appreciate- What are those bandages on your arm!” the queen shouted, shifting from angry to concerned in an instant.

Glimmer winced and hid her scratched arm behind herself sheepishly. 

“I- look- listen!” the princess tried, seeing her mother open her mouth to continue, “I need to explain, a-about Catra... she...” 

The queen crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at her daughter. 

“Well Glimmer, I’m listening.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the longest of days comes to an end. Join us next time as consequences abound.


	11. New Accommodations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a new day on Etheria but that doesn't erase the problems of yesterday. Adora and Catra indulge in each others embrace for as long as they can, but eventually they have to face the music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No TW.
> 
> So yeah, probably only two more chapters left in the first arc. 
> 
> The dialogue sections in this chapter were a real challenge to get right, but I think I like how they ended up. Actually ended up writing a number of different versions and picking the best bits from each, it was something of a journey of discovery.

There was no morning alarm here, wherever here was. There was also a distinct lack of ambient noise in general, which allowed Catra to focus her hearing on something far more pleasant. The magicat’s ear was pressed up against Adora’s chest, allowing her to listen to the slow, rhythmic beating of the blond’s heart.

Catra could have listened to the sound for hours. She did listen to the sound for hours.

Her body felt loose and uncoiled for the first time in so, so long. If there were some place in the world outside of Shadow Weaver’s reach, if there was some space where duty and demand could not find her, then it was here, wrapped in these arms, blanketed in this warmth. She could feel her own heart beating in sync with the blond’s, and the melody brought her peace.

She was vaguely aware of the fact that they weren’t in the Fright Zone anymore, and that the light around them was changing slowly, implying natural sunlight, but that didn’t feel important at the moment. Catra hadn’t slept in two days, since before her night with Scorpia. To simply be able to lie still against Adora was a luxury she would indulge in for as fate would allow. 

\---

Adora very carefully focused on her breathing. Slowly in, slowly out. Everything that had happened in the last twenty-four to thirsty-six hours had left her completely wrecked, charging from place to place to find someway of supporting her best friend. And now here she was, sharing a bed in Brightmoon with Catra. It felt odd in more ways than she could care to count, but again, she was trying to focus on her breathing. Slowly in, slowly out.

The reasons for her focus were two fold. Firstly; _she would not wake Catra!_ And secondly; if she thought about everything that had happened and how things had turned out she was probably going to freak out, _which would wake Catra!_

So she focused. Slowly in, slowly out. 

Her lips twitched into a smile. _Catra had taught her this trick_. One night back when they were younger Catra had convinced her to break curfew and the pair had snuck into one of the older Horde warehouses looking for treasure. It had been fun even if they hadn’t found anything really interesting, but on the way back to their bunks they’d almost been caught by a patrol. Adora had been on the verge of hyper-ventilating over the incident when Catra had suddenly sat down in the blond’s lap and forced them to breath in sync. Slowly in, slowly out. Since then Adora had used the trick a number of times, letting stress take it’s shot at her without letting it eat her away. 

But that was all old history, here in the present Adora had Catra in her arms again and they were safe, a fact that made her smile grow even more. After everything that had happened she was bound and determined to make this quiet experience last as long as possible, which meant she couldn’t wake Catra, which meant she had to focus on her breathing. Slowly in, slowly out. 

\---

Glimmer paced nervously just outside the room her new ‘friends’ had retired to last night, trying not to stare at the closed doors in desperation every time she completed a lap. It was already past noon but as far as she could tell the pair was still asleep, and her mother had forbade her from waking them. 

Of course that was only after General Juliet had returned from Thaymor a few hours ago, demanding to speak to the queen in private with a faun-girl from the town in tow. Whatever had been said behind those closed doors had left the queen angry, angry past the point Glimmer had ever seen her! Sure, she argued with her mother all the time, and the queen wasn’t above snapping at her, but this was different, and so, so much worse. Queen Angella was _frigid_ , dismissing all of Glimmer’s questions while barely even acknowledging her. 

Glimmer sighed. The talk with her mother last night had been... strained. The queen had actually listened to her without interrupting which had been a welcome change of pace, but... as Glimmer had tried her best to explain about the magicat the angelic woman had gotten this look on her face. It was a look Glimmer had only ever seen on her mother once before, a long time ago, and her memories of what the cause had been were fuzzy at best. It had happened not long after her father had died. Queen Angella had been going through some of his old things. The look was... distant, disbelieving, horrified even, as if some great and terrible revelation was suddenly coming into focus.

Between that look and then how she’d reacted to the general’s report Glimmer didn’t know what to make of her mother’s mood. This was all completely uncharted territory. Who the target of the queen’s anger was, and why it cut so deep were not entirely clear, though Glimmer suspected she already knew who it would fall on. 

Turning to face the doorway she couldn’t help but wince sympathetically. Even if she didn’t particularly like the snarky, violent, depressed catgirl, there was no way this was going to be pretty. 

\---

It was the growling of their stomachs that finally got the girls to stop pretending that they were still asleep, and neither commented as they slowly rose to sitting positions, their arms still around each other. 

“So...” Catra trailed off, looking around the room, “I think I can guess where we are based on how bright everything is, but would you mind confirming for me?

Adora gave an amused huff and replied, “We’re in Castle Brightmoon, centre of the Princess Alliance.”

“Wow, honestly never thought I’d see the day Ms. ‘Force Captain Primer’ decided to leave the Evil Horde.” Catra snarked, giving the blond a playful shove with her shoulder.

The blond’s smile fell in an instant, her arms growing rigid around her best friend. 

“Catra, I...” she began, then stopped, “I’m sorry, for not-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Adora.” Catra interrupted, turning her head away, “I handled it.” 

Adora flinched. Her friends voice was too neutral to be genuine. 

“But you shouldn’t of had to!” the blond half-shouted, “It wasn’t-”

The magicat pushed out of Adora’s grip and stood up, still facing away.

“Wasn’t what, Adora? Right? Fair? The Horde was never big on either of those things, especially not for me. It’s just how it was.” 

Adora grabbed her friend’s arm.

“Please Catra!” she pleaded, “We got out, you don’t have to hide anymore!”

“Like you’d listen anyways!” Catra snapped, her head half turning to look at the blond before quickly twisting away again. “Shadow Weaver kept you in the dark for over a decade. It’s not something you can fix.” she continued, her voice returning to it’s neutral register. 

Adora fought down tears and scowled at the ground. When she answered Catra her voice was low and quiet.

“She didn’t keep me in the dark.” the blond whispered, “Not completely. I-I didn’t know it was this bad but... I knew she was hurting you.”

The words hung in the air like a weight, falling on both of their shoulders. When Catra didn’t reply Adora swallowed and continued.

“I know I never said the right things... especially about Shadow Weaver... but I always tried to stick up for you, to support you...”

There was a choked sniff and Adora looked back to her friend. Catra was rigid, her body shaking intermittently with suppressed sobs. 

“I...” the magicat wavered, “I know you did Adora... a-and... and I always t-tried... to keep you out of it...”

The blond slowly stood and walked up behind her friend, gingerly wrapping her arms around the magicat.

“Sh-shadow Weaver sh-she-” Catra choked, “she w-was always t-trying to drive us a-apart b-but... but y-you were always th-there for me!”

Adora held her friend as Catra shook and gasped. The magicat was adamant about not shedding tears, not after the mess she had been yesterday. Not when Adora could still be kept from the full truth. 

The two simply stood there for a long while, just holding onto each other, only finally broken from the moment by a quiet knocking at the door. 

\---

Catra was feeling more collected by the time they reached the conference room, the messy emotions that Adora had nearly pulled out of her were secured back in their boxes. 

Glimmer hadn’t explained what this was about when she’d fetched them, only saying that Queen Angella had requested their presence for a little chat. It was a sentiment that had the magicat ill at ease. 

Catra had been pretty out of it after- well, after Thaymor, and she didn’t really remember any details about the queen. Adora had obviously gotten them a room for the night without any guards so their situation couldn’t be to bad as of yet. Still, royalty meant power and magic, a combination Catra harboured a burning distrust for. And as the doors of the conference room were opened before them, Catra found her ill feelings had been justified. 

The room itself was decently small, about the same size as a Horde briefing room, which probably made it extra small for a queen considering how tightly the Horde budgeted space, but what Catra noticed first as she entered was the three figures waiting for them. The first was a tall, slender, angelic being with her hands steepled together in front of her which basically had to be the queen. The second was a well built, dark skinned woman in a fancy set of full-plate armour, presumably some kind of rebellion force captain or general. Finally, and most damning of all, was a faun girl. _The_ faun girl, a Brightmoon cloak wrapped around her shoulders and fear in her eyes. 

Catra very carefully failed to meet the eyes of the faun, not that it really mattered at this point. She was screwed. Completely, utterly screwed, magic best friend or not. Still, might as well keep up appearances before the meeting went to hell.

Glimmer closed the door behind the trio and moved to one of the chairs surrounding the long table that dominated the room. Adora began to follow but hesitated when Catra pushed aside the end chair and chose to remain standing. The magicat waved her off and the blond took a seat, suddenly a lot more nervous.

A brief staring contest ensued between Catra and the general, the former feigning nonchalance while the latter tried to melt the magicat through sheer force of will. But Catra had had a lifetime of practice enduring baleful glares, and ultimately the general gave up when she realized that she wasn’t getting any traction.

The queen sighed at the exchange and took a moment to fix her posture before speaking.

“Now that you’re all here, it has come to my attention that I have yet to be formally introduced to a guest of my castle. I am Queen Angella of Brightmoon, mother of Princess Glimmer. And you are?” she asked the magicat.

The queen’s voice was crisp and clear, a well trained weapon but not one that was being used to attack Catra, not yet at least. 

“Catra,” Catra replied, perhaps overly casually, “senior cadet, 509th Horde Squadron. Deserted.” she tacked on at the end.

“Well met, Catra. Now then, would you care to explain to us just how you ended up in Thaymor and what your intentions upon entering the town were?”

Catra snorted at the question and rolled her eyes, dropping any pretense of casualty.

“I’m sure you’ve already heard what happened from half the people in this room, are you really going to rake me over the coals before throwing me in a cell?”

“How dare-!” General Juliet began, but the queen raised a hand to silence her.

“Yes, I’ve heard colourful descriptions of what transpired from a few different perspectives now, but I have yet to hear your perspective and I would like to do so before casting a final judgment.”

Catra’s gaze flicked to Adora and Glimmer briefly, the latter of whom looked away, before returning to the queen. 

“What’s there to know?” Catra asked dismissively, “I was wandering around in the woods after leaving the Fright Zone, I stumbled across a random town, and I started throwing punches when they tried to arrest me. Things escalated from there.”

Both the general and the queen seemed absolutely floored by the answer though the queen did a better job of hiding it. Adora practically choked on her own tongue and began to sputter. 

“Your majesty please!” the blond interjected, “Catra-!”

“I am sure your friend can answer for herself, Adora.” the queen countered, “And tell me Catra, over the course of this ‘escalation’ did you happen to have cause to assault the young lady sitting over there?” she asked, gesturing to the faun. 

“I ‘had cause’ to assault a lot of people.” the magicat snipped, “After the villagers stopped attacking me I got caught up in the freedom of having no one around to beat up on me.”

“Do you really want me to lay out the specifics of her charge against you?” the queen asked icily. 

Catra didn’t respond immediately, her gaze finally fully taking in the faun girl who shrunk back. There was a twinge of guilt in the magicat’s chest and she was forced to turn her head away, gaze burrowing into one of the walls. 

“She caught me at a bad moment.” the magicat grumbled.

“Really.” the queen deadpanned, “That’s your defence?”

Catra lunged forwards, claws digging into the table, her glare locking with the queen. 

“What, do you expect me to get on the floor and beg?” she growled, “I know **exactly** what I did and I know **exactly** how bad it feels to be on the receiving end of it! **There is no defence!** ”

“Then help me understand why you did it!” The queen pressed back, rising to her feet.

“I told you already! She caught me at a bad moment!” Catra was shouting now, her claws leaving small grooves as she curled them against the wood.

“What **made** the moment so bad then!? **Why** , in that state of new found freedom, did you feel compelled to assault her!?” 

Catra threw back her head and laughed mockingly, slashing her claws out of the table at an angle. 

“Oh no,” she cackled, “You don’t get to pick at those wounds.” she replied, voice suddenly serious again, “The moment was bad because I’m bad because the Horde made me bad. Simple as that.”

“If you don’t-!” the queen began.

“Nope, don’t care.” the magicat interrupted, inspecting her claws for wood chips, “Just throw me in a cell already, can’t imagine that I have too much longer before I’m dead anyways.”

“The Alliance does not execute it’s prisoners.” the queen said sternly.

The magicat flashed a condescending smile at that.

“Believe me, it wasn’t your executioners I was afraid of.” 

There was a moment of silence as the queen and the magicat stared at each other but the queen broke it off with a sigh before it could develop into a real challenge.

“Very well Catra, if you won’t even try to explain then we do have a room set aside for you. We do not have cells in the castle, but a magicians circle has been prepared that will prevent you leaving the room in question or interacting with people on the other side of it. Meals will be brought to you thrice a day, and a guard will be stationed nearby if you happen to change your mind. General.”

“With pleasure.” the dark skinned woman replied, rising to her feet. 

And with the magicat was escorted from the conference room.

\---

Adora and Glimmer sat in stunned silence.

With yet another sigh the queen eyed the magicat’s travelling companion. 

“Y-your majesty...” the blond began.

“I understand that this must all be quite sudden to you Adora.” the queen replied quietly, “But I would encourage you to hear out our other guest before challenging me on this ruling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, a number of you predicted this. Choices, especially those made while under the thrall of emotion, have consequences. 
> 
> But Catra, I promise you aren't as bad as you think.


	12. Disparate Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra is moved to the spare bedroom while Adora and Glimmer get a more complete picture of the magicat's rampage in Thaymor. Needless to say everyone needs some time to collect themselves afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: minor self-harm
> 
> Writing this chapter was a seemingly endless exercise in revising. I changed which sections I wanted to include three times, I changed the order the sections were read in a few times, and I even ended up having to break down the sections I did include to rebuild them more than a few times each. Emotions are hard man.
> 
> In other news I really wish Angella had gotten more screen time in the series. Her speech inside the portal really got to me and made me feels things when I first watched it. It conveyed maturity and motherhood in a way and to a degree that I really wish I could emulate. 
> 
> Also in other news I completely failed to sleep properly this week.

The room Catra was escorted to was not at all what she had expected after sassing the queen. It was large, open, it accommodated a bed, a couch, and a number of bookshelves. There was even an attached bathroom with it’s own bath and shower. Catra might not have been expecting a solitary cell, or even one of the slightly less terrible general population cells that ordinary Horde prisoners got, but even so this was a stark contrast. 

At least it was until the stink of magic filled the air. 

The floor of the room was almost entirely covered with an intricate design that burst into light the moment the magicat stepped on it, a shock that had her jumping back in an instant. 

Pain erupted from her spine her as her back hit the edge of the magical barrier, and the spell forced her further into the room, stumbling from the shock. 

Catra turned to glare daggers at the general who had escorted her in here but this time it was the dark skinned woman’s turn to be indifferent.

“Lunch will be brought to you in a few hours.” the older woman intoned, “A guard will be stationed nearby and you can shout for them if you have anything you want passed along to the Queen. Otherwise I suggest you get comfortable.” 

Then the general turned slightly to look the magicat dead in the eyes.

“If it were up to me we’d be shipping you out to the Crimson Wastes with the rest of the scum. But I suppose we’ll have to see just how long this arrangement lasts.”

And with that Catra was left alone.

\---

Glimmer was fuming on her bed as Bow tinkered with something on a nearby table. The archer could be incredibly patient when he wanted to be, a trait that Glimmer was currently finding supremely frustrating. She wanted to explode and she wanted the world to explode with her! How could it not after a revelation like this! But Bow knew to wait for her to start. 

Grabbing a pillow from off her bed, Glimmer screamed into it then teleported on top of the table Bow was working at, staring him down.

“I cannot believe her!” she shouted, throwing her arms up in the air.

“You’ll have to be more specific.” Bow answered, carefully setting his tools down.

“Catra! Mom! Adora! Any of them! _**ARGH!**_ ” 

“Is this about the meeting the queen called? Cause you know I wasn’t there for-”

“Catra sexually assaulted a girl!” Glimmer shouted. 

“WHAT!?” the archer squeak-screamed, flinging himself back from the table with enough force to topple his chair. 

“Or, well, she tried to!” Glimmer clarified, simmering down slightly, “One of the fauns in Thaymor! A girl named Turiel! Catra pinned her to a wall and was going to have her way with her! But mom wants to pursue restorative justice anyways!”

“I mean, well,” Bow stammered, trying collecting himself, “You’re always supposed to try right? It helps both parties to-”

“I think this is a little beyond that Bow!” the princess screamed, “And Adora had no idea about any of it! She’s completely shattered! She won’t even say anything now! Not about the attack, not about her and Catra’s past, or whatever torture they were escaping from, not anything!”

Bow tried to stammer something else but it all came out incoherent as he suddenly found himself feeling quite dizzy. This was... he was having a hard time deciding what this was. He found himself sitting on the ground holding his head in his hands, Glimmer now pacing back and forth across the table.

“What is my mother thinking!?” the princess ranted, “What was Adora thinking!? How can they both be working so hard to defend such a monster!?”

“D-defend?” Bow managed, “Wh-what do you mean Queen Angella i-is working t-to defend her?”

“That’s the thing!” Glimmer shouted, rounding on her friend, “Even after Catra refused to defend herself and Adora broke my mom is still holding off on final judgment! She keeps saying that Catra needs justice just as much as Turiel does even though Catra was the assaulter!”

Bow was quiet at that, his mind going to his own interactions with the magicat, and Glimmer’s earlier recounting of what happened near the end of the battle for Thaymor. 

“... did you tell your mom about the kiss?” he asked quietly.

“I told her everything!” Glimmer shouted, returning to her pacing.

“... and you believe Adora and Catra were telling the truth about escaping torture?”

“I-!” the princess began, then stopped, deflating, “I don’t know Bow... I mean, that kiss was... it was bad. It made me sick to my stomach to see but...” she sighed, “Yeah, I guess I do believe them about trying to escape from that... I just... how can...” she sighed again.

“I get it Glimmer, I really do.” Bow supplied, “I...” he began hesitantly, “I don’t think Catra is really in a good place mentally. You remember how she was when we first found her.”

“I do.” Glimmer replied glumly, moving to sit on the edge of the table, “She wanted Adora to leave her to die.”

They were both quiet for a minute before Glimmer leaned back on the table and covered her face in her hands.

“Uhhhhg. Alright, so maybe my mother has a point.” 

\---

The next two days passed in something of a blur for Adora, filled mostly with tours of Brightmoon and reassurances from Bow and Glimmer who she guessed were her friends now. She didn’t do much. The faun girl, Turiel, had given her side of the events in Thaymor, of the fires and the fear, and Adora had listened in horror. 

“ _The moment was bad because I’m bad_.” Catra had said, and despite herself Adora found it hard to muster up the resolve to dispute that. 

“ _No hero bullshit. Not for me._ ”

“ _It’s already too late! I’m already too messed up!_ ”

Adora wanted to be angry at the words, angry like she’d been when she’d first heard them, filled with righteous fury and determination to save her friend. But all she felt was the hollowness the words echoed. 

That entry she had read in Shadow Weaver’s log book had been over a year old. The witch had taken additional steps, and Adora didn’t know if Catra ever had or would recover from the effort. 

“ _It’s not something you can fix._ ”

It was ‘depressing’, a new word she’d learned from the archer. A depressing reality that she could not escape from. Her best friend had assaulted a girl, torn her clothes away and would have gone further if Adora’s skiff hadn’t announced her imminent arrival. 

How was she supposed to justify that? How could she blame Shadow Weaver or the Horde or anyone else? She recalled her own thoughts from the day she left the Horde, how she had done just that, shifting the blame for their desertion and for the attack on Thaymor away from the magicat. Had she been wrong to try to do so? Deserting had been the right thing to do, she could see that now, but the sentiment remained. 

Adoa didn’t speak for her first proper day in Brightmoon after the meeting, she almost didn’t react to anything at all other than to nod or shake her head when asked direct questions. She didn’t sleep a wink that night either, her thoughts too pained to grant her the luxury. On the second day she almost went to see Catra three times, to deliver her meals, but each time she’d tried she had ended up handing off the duty to someone else at the last moment. 

It wasn’t fair. Things never should have gotten this far. Catra never should have been this hurt. 

Adora cried for most of the second night, technically her third in Brightmoon counting her arrival with the magicat in her arms. 

Finally though, on the third day, exhausted from lack of sleep and famished from skipped meals, Adora managed to force herself to push open the decorative double doors and step into the room that served as her best friend’s prison. 

\---

“Hey Adora.”

“Hey, Catra.”

The magicat paused at the reply, her brain throwing out red flags at the weakness in the blond’s voice. She sat up from the couch and turned to face the door. 

Adora looked completely enervated. 

The blond’s clothes were ill kept and her hair looked as if it hadn’t been brushed in days, but what was most disturbing to Catra was her friends eyes, dark and devoid of the determination that had carried them this far. It was a sight that grabbed the magicat by the heart, bleeding tension into her chest. 

Catra tried to catch Adora’s gaze, but the blond was staring at the magicat’s feet, refusing to lift her head.

“Why did you stay?” Adora asked softly.

“What?” Catra breathed, a cold feeling swelling in her gut.

“In the Fright Zone... they were hurting you... why did you stay?”

Catra snorted instinctively.

“I didn’t exactly have anywhere else to go Adora.” she drawled before she could stop herself. 

She didn’t want to be this way with Adora, not now, but something about the way her best friend was acting had her on edge, falling back on old tactics. 

“You were able to fight an entire town by yourself with no weapons or supplies Catra. If you’d taken a proper skiff with provisions you could have gone anywhere, fought anyone. No one would have been able to stop you, and the Horde would’ve given up on catching you.”

Catra blinked. Adora’s voice was a bit stronger now but it still didn’t feel right.

“Shadow Weaver wouldn’t have given up.” she said finally, “No matter where I went she would find me, and she is going to find me Adora.”

Adora shook for a moment, her body gripped by conflicting emotions.

“But the Horde was hurting you!” she shouted, “They were making you-..! making you...”

_“I’m bad because the Horde made me bad.”_

Adora choked and shook again, her entire body trembling. 

“...why didn’t you fight her?” she whispered softly, then clapped her hands over her mouth, instantly trying to take it back.

Catra was frozen. She’d spent the last two days waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Shadow Weaver to find her or Queen Angella to execute her. Without a doubt this was worse.

“ ‘Why didn’t I fight her’ ” the magicat parroted back, her voice distant. 

Did Adora really thing that she’d just stood there and taken her punishment all those times? That she hadn’t fought with everything that she’d ever had!? A familiar, cold rage built up in her chest, pushing out everything else. 

“ ** _I fought her every single day!_** ” The magicat screamed, her voice booming throughout the castle, “ _I fought her so hard for so long! And all it ever did was make things **worse!**_ ” 

There were tears in the magicats eyes now, her own body beginning to tremble. How dare Adora. _How dare she!_ She didn’t know! She’d never survive knowing, let alone going through it herself! 

“I-... I’m sorry...” the blond whispered, slowly beginning to curl in on herself.

“ _Fuck you Adora._ ” the magicat growled, “ _Fuck you and your stupid fucking questions! I already told you why I didn’t leave, you just never listen!_ ”

One last memory flashed through the blond’s mind, spiteful and challenging.

_"And what!? You’re going to rescue me now!? After everything I’ve been through just to stay at your side!?"_

“...I’m sorry... _I-I’m s-sorry_... _I-I’m s-so s-sorry!_ ” 

“ _You-! You stupid fucking idiot! I-! Y-You just couldn’t-!_ ”

Adora fled the room, trying to out run her words and Catra’s and everything else she was feeling. She remembered hiding in that vent in the training complex and feeling like Catra was silently screaming for help. Adora should have helped her then, or any of the hundreds of times before. It never should have gotten this far. 

\---

Catra barely even noticed when Angella stepped into the room. Instead her attention was almost entirely occupied by her once nice furniture, now clawed, splintered, and broken in pieces. It was still too nice a room. She still hadn’t broken enough. Good things couldn’t exist, it wasn’t fair for them to, not when she felt like this. She need to hurt something, hurt someone maybe, but the magicians circle was keeping her trapped in here, so all she had were her claws. 

Angella barely even had to take in the scene before her. Pain begot pain, and the magicat had been hurt more than most. 

The queen was quiet, mournfully so as she waited for the magicat to acknowledge her presence. Part of her rebelled against this course of action, trying to get the girl to open up after a big emotional confrontation, but the silence of the last few days had made it abundantly clear that Catra wasn’t going to open up otherwise. So she waited, standing quietly while the magicat panted, jagged emotions writ large all around them.

Catra did eventually acknowledge the queen’s presence with a glance over her shoulder and a tsk, but that was all the prompting that Angella needed. 

When the queen spoke her voice was soft and unobtrusive, leaning towards understanding while avoiding pity or sympathy. 

“I imagine it must be hard, loving someone with such a different and naive view of the world.” 

Catra didn’t answer.

“To Adora all the options are clear and distinct,” the queen continued, taking a cautious step forwards, “Run, fight, subvert, endure. She doesn’t see the true intricacies of each choice.” the queen paused, “Or the consequences of each decision.”

“What do you want queeny?” the magicat growled, her voice hoarse and hollow.

“You made it clear during our last meeting that you felt it was not my place to know your troubles, but I fear I already have some idea of the pain you must have faced.”

“... You’re wasting your time... I’m not going to try and justify what I did.”

“I don’t expect you to, but I do suspect that I know why.”

The magicat flinched, then chuckled darkly.

“Oh? Picked up the pieces from Adora and your daughter? Go ahead and try then, you’re wasting your breath.”

“Adora doesn’t understand why you chose to stay in the Horde, enduring what you did, and you’re angry at her because it was never a real choice to you.” 

Catra’s growl grew at that and she dug her claws into her palms, drawing blood as she clenched her fists. For a moment Queen Angella watched the blood pool and fall to the ground before sighing at walking over to the bathroom. She re-emerged with a small first aid kit and moved to stand in front of the magicat, offering it to her gently yet firmly. After another moment Catra undug her claws and reluctantly took the kit. 

It was only when the magicat’s hands were properly bandaged that the queen continued.

“You weren’t the first you know.” the queen began quietly.

Catra looked up at that, her face tired and her expression confused.

It was a sight that made the queen turn her head away. 

“Before she joined the Horde, Shadow Weaver had a different name and lived a different life, though seeing the state she’s left you in perhaps she never changed at all.

She was called Light Spinner then, and she was the most learned magician in all of Mystacor, always bragging of her powers and dismissing those she felt were inferior.

My husband, he...” the queen faltered, “he was a magical prodigy, and when he was young she took him in as her star pupil. She doted on him, gave him extra lessons, elevated him above all the other students, constantly told him that he was destined for great feats of magic. But it always came at a cost. She controlled him completely, all of his lessons, all of his hobbies, even all of his friends were dictated to him by Light Spinner, and the moment she found one of them to her distaste she would cut them from him like a sculptor from marble.”

Angella gave a small chuckle.

“By the time I met him he was something of a wreck of a man. Afraid of authority figures, completely unable to relate to others, and so on. It took him years just to get comfortable around me, let alone to let me in and share himself with me.”

Her grin fell, her face becoming sombre again.

“I can already see the same scars on Adora, and it terrifies me to think about what scars I might find on you.”

A heavy silence filled the room. Catra couldn’t so much as open her mouth or flex her claws, her entire body having grown rigid as the angel had spoken. Angella saw it all with just a glance.

“Light Spinner kept a log book you know, of all the actions she took surrounding my husband. I found it a few years back when going through his old things. Every time she kept him from going out and practising with the other students, every word of encouragement she enticed him with. Judging by how Adora reacts about you, I imagine she found the same.”

The queen turned back to the magicat, just the slightest hint of sympathy in her eyes. 

“She loves you to you know, Adora. It’s the reason she’s out here, the reason she’s so hurt by you being hurt.”

“Shut up.” the magicat whispered, “shut up, shut up!”

“ _For once we’re in agreement, mongrel._ ”

The voice seemed to cast the entire room in darkness, a nightmare made manifest in the worst possible way.

“ _Do stop talking Angella, it will make this so much easier and I have a wayward student to correct._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shadow falls over Brightmoon, and hearts broken must come together if they wish to survive. 
> 
> I'm gonna take a nap.


	13. Light in the Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As one might expect it is within the hour of greatest heartbreak that Shadow Weaver rears her ugly head. Queen Angella had been trying to talk to Catra, to help the magicat, but now they're both in grave danger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No TW.
> 
> So I know I'm really bad at predicting the length of my own stories, having said that I'd be done by now twice, but I'm going to say 2 more chapters, 3 at most. 
> 
> Dialogue has gotten easier the more of it I write. Emotions are still hard but I suppose the world would be a very different place if they were simple.
> 
> Sorry this one took a bit longer than usual. It's extra long to make up for it.

The fear took hold in an instant, igniting Catra’s nerves and driving her brain into over drive, but at the same time it was also almost a relief. In a way she had been waiting for this moment ever since her decision up on that factory roof, for it to all come full circle and for Shadow Weaver to catch up with her. This was the final act of her short miserable life, and she had chosen it. Might as well see it through to the end.

“No, no! You cannot be here!” Angella shouted, imposing herself between the magicat and the growing vortex of shadows that now covered the far wall, “This place is protected! The moonstone-!”

“ _I believe I told you to stop talking Angella._ ” the shadow interrupted, waving a hand as if to dismiss the queen, “ _While dear Micah might have had the power to keep me from manifesting here you’ve never been too bright on the subject of magic._ ”

Catra flexed her claws, gaze searching the mass of darkness for some kind of target. The witch could only do so much from a distance, she knew from experience, but this was only the opening act. The real shadows would come out in a minute.

As if sensing her intent the voice in the shadows began to laugh.

“ _Oh Catra, always so over confident in own your abilities, but when it comes right down to it you always rely on Adora to bail you out, don’t you._ ”

Catra bared her fangs without thinking, a growl building in her chest.

“ _It’s not enough that you had to soil her record with your own failures, now you’ve dragged her into open rebellion with you. Pathetic. She should have just let Octavia have her way with you you know._ ”

Angella’s hands were on Catra’s shoulders in an instant, the only thing holding the magicat back from lunging straight into the darkness.

“She’s only trying to hurt you Catra.” 

The queens tone was steady and commanding. 

“You have to fight her by _not_ listening.”

“ _Still collecting broken things are you Angella?_ ” Shadow Weaver drawled, “ _You know Micah might have survived our last battle if you hadn’t made him so soft._ ”

The queen went rigid, her back turned to the darkness. With the angel’s hands on her shoulders Catra could feel the tremor run through the woman’s body, she could see the flash of rage cross her face. 

And then came a moment that Catra felt more than she experienced. Angella had broken her mask of regality during their first meeting sure, raising her voice in answer to Catra’s own, but it had been focused, controlled. In this moment, with Shadow Weaver’s words hanging in the air, there was no focus. There was only pain and anger writ large across the Queen’s face. Then something impossible happened. The queen swallowed it, pushed away the emotion as if an age old wound on her heart hadn’t just been re-opened. It was a moment that both shook Catra to her core. Anger denied. Pain overcome. Perhaps scars did heal.

Angella let out a breath, stood up straight, and turned to face the darkness.

“You are not welcome here.” the queen stated, her voice as solid as a mountain, “And you will hurt no one within these walls.”

These was a moment of pause before the shadows began to laugh again.

“ _Really Angella? And just how do you intend to stop me?_ ”

It was then that the figures began to emerge, shifting silhouettes of darkness with deep red lights glowing within them. 

“ _This war continues as a courtesy, one I’m sure your daughter will have no trouble taking up in your stead._ ”

\---

Adora was still trying to fight back tears when Bow and Glimmer found her. She’d fled from Catra’s room almost an hour ago now but the pain wouldn’t stop coming and neither would the tears. _She’d done it again! Why couldn’t she just support Catra when she need it! Shadow Weaver hurt people all the time, she even kept records of how and why she hurt people! Why was she still taking the witch’s side after everything!?_

The duo sat down on opposite sides of the blond, their backs leaning against the giant overly soft bed that Adora had failed to sleep on the last two nights. They were close enough that she could feel them without them crowding her, though in the moment it still felt to close for Adora’s comfort.

It took a minute for the archer to work up the nerve to speak over Adora’s gasping sobs, but when he did his voice was low, soft, and comforting.

“Hey...” he offered, “I know things have been... hard, since Turiel’s testimony, but everything’s going to be okay, I promise. Queen Angella is dedicated to pursing restorative justice. She wants to make sure that both Turiel and Catra recover from this.”

Adora looked up briefly, her blue, tear-stained eyes meeting the archer sympathetic browns. He was trying to smile, to support her, but his expression only reminded her of her best friend.

She turned away and curled in on herself a little further. 

The archer and the princess shared a worried look over the blond’s head before Glimmer leaned in for an attempt.

“Adora,” she said softly, “This isn’t your fault, and we know that Catra wasn’t herself when she attacked Thaymor. Mom really will try to help her, and you. It’s all going to be okay.”

The blond continued to curl in on herself.

Glimmer licked her lips, her eyebrows knitting in determination. _She was going to help this ex-Horde soldier feel better whether they liked it or not!_

“We don’t know what happened to the two of you back in the Horde, but I promise you you’ll never have to deal with it again! Brightmoon will keep you safe!”

Adora whimpered at that, her hands going to her head, digging her fingers into her scalp.

“ _...didn’t keep her safe..._ ” 

Glimmer paused, not sure if she heard that right. Bow took it as his cue to lean in. 

“What was that?” the archer prodded gently.

“ _ **I didn’t keep her safe!**_ ” the blond screamed, her voice returning in force.

She wrenched her head around to look the stunned archer dead in the face.

“ _I was supposed to be her leader, her friend! And I let them hurt her over and over! I let them torture and degrade and-!_ ”

Her voice cut out again unexpectedly and she sank to her hands and knees, her whole body trembling. 

“ _She..._ ” Adora wavered, “ _she suffered for me... to stay close to me... and all I ever did was look the other way..._ ”

There was a dangerous quiver in the blond’s voice. Fragile and vulnerable and all too close to breaking. Glimmer felt herself retreating, her mind paralyzed by what she was hearing. Adora, the girl who could turn into a giant, amazonian warrior, who had stared her and Bow and an entire Horde strike force down like they were nothing, was falling apart right infront of her. 

Bow looked much the same as Glimmer felt for a moment, terrified by the intensity of the blond’s emotions, but then he bit his lip and rallied himself. 

“I-! Adora that’s not true!” he pressed, “You discovered what was happening! You chased her to Thaymor! She was in the middle of breakdown and you saved her! You rescued her from Octavia and held onto her the whole way to Brightmoon! You have done so much for her!”

“ _...It was too late..._ ” the blond whispered, not looking up.

Glimmer shut her eyes and pushed, forcing the fear from her mind.

“No it wasn’t!” she joined in, “Adora, you’re both here now, you’re both safe! I know you both can get through this together!”

Adora tensed at that, still not looking up.

“ _...I never take her side when she needs me..._ ”

“Adora you tried to defend her to Angella-” Bow began.

“ _I’m never there for **her!**_ ” the blond shouted, her hands going to her head again, “ _I never say the right things to **her** when she needs me! I-! I always-!_”

Glimmer swallowed, her mouth dry from the effort of keeping herself steady. Adora’s pain was deep. She and Bow were trying their best to delve into it but it was just so _hard_ to keep pressing, even when she knew the blond needed her.

A moment of silence passed before Glimmer could rally herself again, and just like Bow had before her she smoothed out her voice, letting it flow out slowly and with care.

“The Horde hurt her Adora, a-and, and I think they hurt you to. It’s obvious how you and Catra feel about each other, and if you’re having a hard time sharing that with her then I think it’s because the Horde made it hard for you.”

The princess’s voice was strained by the end, but she’d managed to say what she meant to say.

Adora merely scoffed.

“ _Shadow Weaver never hurt me._ ” she mumbled, “ _I was the golden child, her prized student. She only ever hurt Catra and the others._ ”

“I think Glimmer is right, Adora.” Bow cut in, “I think Shadow Weaver did hurt you. She was holding you apart from the others and torturing the girl you love. I don’t think anyone would really be alright after that.”

Adora’s breath caught in her throat. _The girl you love._

It hurt. It hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt.

Her hands clenched over her heart, her head pressing against the floor. 

She loved Catra. As soon as Bow had said the words she knew they were true, they had always been true. And that made things worse. She was hurting the one she loved, she’d failed the one she loved. _It hurt._

Bow and Glimmer were trying to say something to her but she couldn’t hear them, she couldn’t breathe. _She loved Catra._

Suddenly Glimmer collapsed to one side, arms bracing her stomach, stealing the archer’s attention from the blond.

“Glimmer! What’s wrong?”

“Nnnrg!” the princess grunted, “M-Moonstone! S-something’s drawing all the power from th-the moonstone!”

Adora’s eyes locked on the princess. The moonstone had been the first stop of the tour after the disastrous meeting with the queen, it was the source of both the princess’s and the queen’s magic. For it to be under attack-!

Adora scrambled to her feet and bolted out of the room, running down the seemingly endless corridors to Catra’s prison. Of all the things she and Catra had said during their last talk one line was at the forefront of her mind now.

“ _She is going to find me Adora._ ”

\--- 

Light poured off of Queen Angella like she was the dawn moon itself, radiant and resplendent in all it’s heavenly glory. But for all the queen’s light the room only continued to darken, shadows covering the ceiling, then the walls, then spreading across the floor. 

Catra wove and dodged between the shadowed figures that surged out of the mass of darkness, desperate to avoid letting any of their tendrils catch her. Shadow Weaver’s creations were fast but only up to a point, and mainly relied on their malleability to ensnare their targets. Their bodies distorted and stretched, appendages lashing out in wide sweeping motions to catch an arm or a leg, but Catra was faster, and she knew how these monsters moved. 

“ _Poor, sweet, stupid Angella._ ”

Shadow Weaver’s voice echoed from all around them now, seeming to come from all the shadows at once.

“ _So broken after the death of her husband that she let the first Princess Alliance fall apart. So weak that she was murdered in her own home by a sorceress half the world away._ ”

There was a cruel, hateful laugh following the words that made Catra grind her teeth. It was all too familiar a laugh from the witch.

The queen though seemed completely unphased by the words. Without missing a beat light burst forth from the angel’s hands, cutting down a pair of shadows, dissolving them as if they were the morning mist. 

Some of the other shadow monsters howled and screamed as their kin were erased and attempted to retaliate, but none of them could so much as touch the queen, the light coming off her too intense for them to endure. 

Unfortunately for Catra, she had no such defence, and was rapidly running out of manoeuvring room. Calculations quickly began to fly through the magicat’s head as she was forced to retreat further away from the angel. It looked like the queen had to take a second to charge up those blasts, and she could only do two at a time. With all the furniture shredded there was nothing to spring-board off of but there was also more room to move. Call it about ten shadows remaining after the first two had been annihilated. 

Catra tucked and rolled under a high slash, dancing between a trio of shadows before leaping into the air and delivering an axe-kick to the one that had gone for her. There was a moment of unnatural cold as her heel cut through it’s crimson centre, but sure enough as her foot broke through the other side the shadow dissipated and did not reform. 

She smiled. Nine shadows remaining, and about to be less.

That smile and feeling of accomplishment lasted for all of half a second as the wall of darkness seemed to turn to face her. 

“ _Are you still here?_ ” Shadow Weaver drawled, “ _And here I thought you ran from your problems._ ”

Catra felt the temperature of the room drop another few degrees as six of the remaining nine shadows began to reposition around her, the remaining three circling the queen. 

“ _Really now Catra, when has fighting me ever worked out in your favour?_ ”

The shadows surged, their limbs streaking out towards her like spears. 

Catra twisting around and fell into a hand spring, blood roaring through her ears as she was thrust back onto the defensive. Six was too many. Even focused entirely on dodging six was too many. She leap backwards and was forced to immediately leap again as another shadow followed up the first’s attack. What had been a half-formed plan in her mind was now completely shattered as every motion blurred into the next. She wasn’t going to last. The wall was only a few feet behind her now and there was no way past her attackers. It was happening again. She was cornered. Outmatched. Shadow Weaver had won, just like she was always going to. 

Catra closed her eyes and grit her teeth as her back finally hit the wall. No more running. She hesitated, it would only be half a heartbeat before they were on her. This was it.

Light overflowed the room, forcing Catra to open her eyes then immediately shut them again. In that barest glimpse of the world around her Catra saw the queen, her arms outstretched as if commanding armies, pointing at the shadows that had been descending on Catra. They were gone now, cast out like refuse from a disposal. Alas, so was the glow around the queen.

“ _So predictable, the both of you._ ” Shadow Weaver’s voice sang, “ _Child’s play really._ ”

Catra managed to squint, her eyes readjusting to the gloom. 

Queen Angella was covered head-to-toe in shadows, her light subsumed by darkness. The illusion of Shadow Weaver caught the magicat’s eyes.

“ _Did you really think you were important enough to draw my focus, Catra? That your life could in any way be more valuable than that of the queen of Brightmoon? Oh, of course you did. Always so self important. You are worthless, child, and I tire of repeating myself on the subject._ ”

“ _ **She isn’t worthless!**_ ”

All eyes in the room snapped to the now open doorway. Standing there, her eyes still red from tears and her hair still unkempt from her depression was Adora, figuratively and literally glowing with determination.

“ _She’s brave! And strong! And intelligent! And caring! She’s valuable, and important, and I won’t let you hurt her anymore!_ ” the blond screamed, raising the sword of protection high into the air.

“ _ **For the honour, of Greyskull!**_ ”

A new light filled the room, far sharper and more cutting that the queen’s soft if intense glow. Pure, white light eclipsed all else, and when it faded away no shadows remained, save for a single weakened figure against the far wall.

“ _A-Adora!_ ” Shadow Weaver gasp, her form barely holding together, “ _Y-you are deceived! The princesses-!_ ”

“Enough.”

Adora’s, no, She-ra’s voice was calm now, the trembling emotion that had dictated it lay discarded. 

“The only deception between us is that you loved me and that Catra didn’t. But I’ve seen the truth now, and I won’t let you stand between me and the girl I love.”

Shadow Weaver growled, one of her gnarled hand clawing down the wall, leaving streaks of darkness.

“ _Always such a poor student, letting yourself be distracted by that animal. Very well Adora, we’ll do this the hard way._ ”

Tendrils of shadow burst forth from the witch, shooting directly towards the blond, but before they could reach the amazon they froze in the air, suddenly trembling.

Catra twisted her claws further, eliciting a sucking gasp from the shadow manifestation, but her eyes were still locked on Adora.

“You... you love me?”

The question, though barely more than a whisper, carried across the room. 

Adora smiled, lowing her sword which she’d only just begun to raise to block the witch’s attack.

“Yeah Cat,” she whispered back, “I do.”

Catra’s hand closed, breaking the core of Shadow Weaver’s last shadow and freeing the room from the witch’s presence.

“I... I love you too.” 

“Yeah?” Adora replied, releasing She-ra’s form, “W-well, I love you too.”

Catra laughed and wiped at her eyes, now teary for an entirely different reason. 

“You already said that, idiot.”

“Maybe I wanted to say it again.” the blond replied, her own eyes misting. 

The pair slowly began to step towards each other, giggling and trying not to cry. 

“You really love me?” Catra whispered again as they got close.

Adora laughed.

“I really really do.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started this story properly in the second chapter I knew I wanted it to focus on dark themes and negative emotions, they tend to be the most resonant and moving after all. However, that focus was only ever going to serve one end. Light overcoming darkness, love overcoming pain. That was the entire point of the show, and so I felt that should be the guiding light of stories about the show.


	14. The balance of love and pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though the darkness has been banished from Brightmoon the scars that the shadows have left are not so easily fixed. Catra still carries her wounds. Fortunately for her though, Adora is there to help ease the burden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Reference to torture and abuse, as well as some implications of how bad things got for Catra.
> 
> Another long chapter so again it took a bit longer than normal. Next chapter will probably be the last and it'll have an authors note at the end explaining what I mean by 'end of the first arc' as well as some other stuff. 
> 
> We finally talk about 'Corrections' in this chapter but not in the way I had originally planned. Honestly this chapter got away from me in a number of ways and might not be as polished and refined as the rest. I really tried though. Just kinda hard to get my head right in a chapter full of love and suffering.

Catra cried herself to sleep that night. _Adora loved her._

By all rights she should have been over-joyed. It was over. The pain and misery of the Fright Zone, of Shadow Weaver’s torture, of keeping her feelings secret, they were all over. But she still cried, and her heart still hurt.

She’d clung to the faint hope of Adora saving her for so long. Even before Shadow Weaver had started making her work in the infirmary Catra had dreamed of the day when her best friend would finally be able to save her, but now the day had come and pain was still here. 

_Why?_

_Why did it still hurt?_

_Adora loved her, why did she still feel this way?_

She wanted to scream and cry, to let her feelings pour out of her and never let them return, but her voice was dead in her throat, and her pain slowly grew into despair. 

_She was broken. That love and that hope she had clung to, they had come true but it was too late. She was broken, and nothing could fix her._

Adora loved her, and she loved Adora in return, but how long could that last when she was such a wreck?

\---

Adora tried not to be nervous while bringing Catra breakfast. 

The magicat had been moved to a new room without a magicians circle after the events of the previous evening and had practically collapsing into her new bed once they’d arrived, leaving no room for her and Adora to discuss what had happened. 

It was that uncertainty and lack of discussion that made Adora nervous despite her best efforts. 

_What were she and Catra now? Girlfriends? Lovers?_

She blushed at the thought.

_Okay, they weren’t lovers, not in the physical sense, but they certainty weren’t just friends anymore!_

She’d actually managed to get some sleep last night in spite of, or maybe because of, the emotional rollercoaster the previous day had been, and had done her best to clean herself up this morning.

_Catra loved her!_

Her heart couldn’t help but skip a beat every time she remembered. 

She was going to talk with her today and their talk had to go perfectly, she had to show that she was making up for her mistakes! She was going to be the best damn whatever-their-relationship-was-now to Catra that anyone could ever be!

With a grin of determination she balanced the breakfast tray in one hand she pushed the door to the magicat’s room open with the other, stepping inside.

“Good morning Cat-!” 

Her cheery voice caught in her throat.

The magicat was curled up tightly in the centre of her new bed. Too tightly. Something was wrong. 

Adora switched gears immediately, almost dropping the tray of food she was carrying as she rushed to her friends side. Nothing was obviously wrong but Adora could feel the silent tears dripping down Catra’s face as if they were her own, her gaze racking the magicat for the source of distress. 

“Catra!” Adora whispered, desperation tinging her voice “Catra, hey, what’s wrong?”

The magicat buried her head a bit further into the mattress, her tired voice rising up quietly from beneath the sheets.

“... I am...”

Adora deflated. That struck too close to home. The words were a crushing throwback to the depression that the magicat had shown after escaping the Fright Zone, and to Adora’s own thoughts over the last few days, and to the whole ‘the Horde made me bad’ thing... and...

The blond sighed, setting the tray of food on the floor before crawling into the bed with the magicat. 

“Catra...” Adora began, “I... I know it hurts... everything that happened... a-and... and I wish I had done more to support you-”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for Adora.” the magicat murmured, “You supported me every step of the way.”

“No, I didn’t,” the blond mumbled back, “but that’s not the point. I know things have been bad, but I promise you it will get better. You’re not a bad person.”

“Yes I am!” Catra pressed, “I-I’m violent! And deceptive! And I only think about myself and I hurt everyone else! I’m am a bad person and not even your love can’t fix me!”

There was a beat, Adora’s heart skipping but also clenching with panic. Catra loved her. But that wasn’t enough? A thousand questions crossed the blond’s tongue but she held them back, Catra wasn’t finished yet. 

“I-I...” the magicat wavered, “I want it to be... I want to love you, and be with you, and I want us to be happy... B-but deep down... I still feel like I can’t, b-because I have to hurt people... B-because Shadow Weaver took you from me...”

The words were raw and unfiltered, vulnerable and ashamed. Adora and Catra rarely got to talk like this, and when they did it was usually Adora doing the confessing. Not being good enough, not living up to expectations, unsure if she could handle leadership, the blond had revealed it all and Catra had always stood by her, helped build her back up. Now it was Adora’s turn, and by the grace of love or something higher she knew exactly what to say.

“... I felt the same way yesterday...” the blond whispered, “I felt broken because I kept messing up with you... saying the wrong things at the wrong times... I knew you still knew how I felt, and I knew I had apologized already but... I still felt broken... like I’d never be who I should be for you...”

Adora’s throat went dry at the memory and she had to swallow, but she continued nonetheless.

“Glimmer, she and Bow talked to me about being hurt... They said that just because Shadow Weaver never hit me doesn’t mean that she never hurt me... it... I didn’t understand what they were trying to say at first but... I-I think... I think you were more right than you knew when you said that Shadow Weaver was always trying to drive us apart... I think she... she hurt us like this on purpose... made us both feel broken, about each other... to keep us apart...”

There was another pause as Adora had to fight a lump in her throat. 

“You’ve been hurt a lot Cat... and I’m sorry... I wish I could cast out the pain like I did the shadows, b-but... I think we’re both just hurt... a-and... that we’re going to have to fight what Shadow Weaver did to us if... i-if we want t-to be...”

The blond felt cowardly, her voice breaking and unable to say the last words, but it was all she could manage, as far as she could reach without some acknowledgement from the girl beside her. 

Catra didn’t respond. 

All the things that Adora had said...

_“Catra that’s not fair!”_

_“It’s understandable that she’d-”_

_“Why didn’t you fight her?”_

...they’d hurt...

_“I know I never said the right things.”_

_“I kept messing up with you.”_

...but they hadn’t just hurt her, had they... 

_“Catra wait! I didn’t mean-!”_

_“I-I’m s-so s-sorry!”_

...they’d hurt Adora too.

_“I can already see the same scars on Adora.”_

_“She loves you to you know, Adora. It’s the reason she’s out here, the reason she’s so hurt by you being hurt.”_

The queen’s words echo in her head. Words from a stranger, yet so soft and caring. Even after the way Catra had acted during the meeting the angel had still tried to help her, help her understand both Adora and herself just a little bit better. Catra remembered the queen reaching out, pouring light into the room, leaving herself open, all to save the magicat from the witch.

_“You have to fight her by_ not _listening.”_

_“You will hurt no one within these walls.”_

She remembered the look on the queen’s face when Shadow Weaver had mocked her, invoking the name of her dead husband, and she remembered how that rage had passed. 

Catra wanted that. She’d known it from the second she’d seen it. She wanted to be able to do what Angella had done. 

“I-I...” the magicat’s voice was scratchy and forced, like water leaking from the cracks of a dam, “I want t-to be better... I w-want to be b-better with you... I-I...” she swallowed, “I love you Adora... I always have...”

The blond kissed the back of her neck and Catra couldn’t help but purr weakly. It was almost painful to start herself speaking again, but she had something worth suffering through the pain for, just like she always had. 

“We’re g-gonna fight Sh-Shadow Weaver t-together!” she declared, “W-We’re g-gonna live the p-perfect life together and l-laugh a-at her stupid masked f-face!”

There were tears in her eyes now, hot and burning with emotion as she fought with her heart and her tongue. She had to do this. _Adora loved her._

“... a-and... and I’m... I’m gonna apologize...” she whispered, “a-admit... what I did in Thaymor w-was wrong... a-and r-really apologize...”

The words were a weight off her shoulders. With them now in the air and Adora wrapping her arms around her, Catra suddenly felt relief, as if she could breathe freely for the first time in a long time. 

“... I’m gonna tell them, Adora... I’m gonna tell them everything... and you’ll be there...”

The blond kissed her again.

“It’s gonna be okay Cat.” Adora whispered, “We’re gonna be okay.”

\---

It took awhile to assemble everyone back in the conference room. Glimmer and Bow hadn’t even gotten up yet when the Horde pair went to look for them. General Juliet had to be pulled from a wall inspection and was none too happy about it, but a word from the queen kept her silent as Catra readied herself for what she had to say. Turiel was also sent for, the young fauna escorted to the room by a pair of guards and allowed to again sit between the queen and the top general. Catra sat across from her this time, hands gripping the table tightly but not digging her claws into it.

The magicat took a deep breath.

“So...” she began, already fighting to keep her voice in check, “I... have no defence for my actions in Thaymor. It was wrong of me to attack the town, and it was especially wrong of me to attack Turiel in the way that I did. I am sorry.”

Adora squeezed her friends arm as the magicat took a second to let the apology hang in the air. General Juliet did not look impressed but both Glimmer and Queen Angella softened their expressions slightly. 

“I have no justification for what I did.” the magicat continued, “However, i-if, if it matters, I do have an explanation for why I... for why I was the way that I was and felt the way that I felt.”

The queen turned to the faun girl sitting beside her.

“Turiel, would you be comfortable with allowing Catra to speak about the conditions that led her to act in the manner she did?”

The faun girl hesitated, her wide, doe eyes taking in on-edge magicat who refused to meet her gaze. Finally though, she nodded ever so slightly.

“Very well then.” the queen replied, “Please begin your explanation Catra.”

This would be the big one. Catra could feel every muscle in her body tense up at the go ahead, her fight or flight response leaping to the forefront of her mind. 

Adora’s hand was still on her arm. 

The magicat took another deep breath, letting it out slowly. 

“Alright.” she whispered, “Alright.”

\---

Obviously the Fright Zone was never a very pleasant place to live, let along grow up, what with it being a blasted wasteland filled with nothing but factories, mines, and various military facilities. Catra and Adora somehow made it work though, together. That is, until Shadow Weaver had broken it. 

As wards Adora and Catra had had less responsibilities than their senior counterparts and while in theory this extra time was meant to be spent on studying and chores the girls almost always found a way to be done early. That let them adventure. 

They explored the entire Fright Zone twice over, or at least the parts they were allowed inside of (and some of the less secure parts that they weren’t). Every hidden nook or secret path there was to find Catra and Adora found. 

Unfortunately it wouldn’t be long before they needed them.

As soon as they were old enough to be made junior cadets Shadow Weaver began to ramp up her campaign against the pair, conscripting more of Adora’s time and dedicating more and more effort to driving Catra away. If there was a dirty or dangerous job that needed doing Catra would be assigned to the work detail no matter how under qualified she was, and that was only the start. 

Without the cover being a civilian had afforded her Catra also fell subject to _corrections_ , Shadow Weaver’s favourite form of high punishment. 

_Corrections_ were never the same twice, which probably took a lot of effort on the witch’s part. Sure, they could often share common elements, electrocution, suffocation, starvation, extended solitary confinement, but those were only ever tools to a much more selective end. _Corrections_ were just that, punishments to correct the behaviour of Horde personnel. 

Early on, Shadow Weaver had had Catra fitted with a shock collar to _correct_ her for talking back. The witch had kept her in the Black Garnet Chamber for hours, raining insults down upon the magicat only to fry her half to death whenever the girl spoke in her own defence. But that had only been an early effort, and Catra had had many unacceptable habits and behaviours. 

Stealing from the scrap yard. Punishment : Broken hands and a thorough beating with an iron bar. Behaviour _Corrected_.

Boasting about a record setting training course run. Punishment : Jaw wired shut and rations withheld for a week. Behaviour _Corrected_.

Using her claws against the other cadets. Punishment : Forced to attend combat sparing with the senior cadets with her hands bound. Behaviour _Corrected_.

Distracting Adora from her studies to go exploring. Punishment : Three days solitary confinement. Behaviour _Corrected_.

Trespassing in an old munitions factory. Punishment : Broken leg and two week reassignment to factory detail. Behaviour _Corrected_.

Failing to adhere to regulations routes while on watch duty. Punishment : Four days sleep deprivation. Behaviour _Corrected_.

Beating Adora’s score on the junior cadets strategy assessment. Punishment : Electrocution, beating, two days solitary confinement, and made to retake the assessment. Behaviour _Corrected_.

The list went on and on, some of the charge barely more than infractions, some specifically because of her relationship to Adora, all corrected in turn. And the punishments only grew worse as she grew older.

It was graduating to senior cadets that would prove to be the breaking point. 

Adora and Catra had always been close, closer than Horde doctrine proscribed, but more and more they’d begun to rely on each other, on shared smiles and lingering contact, on stolen laughs and nightly company. Evidently Shadow Weaver was none too pleased by this development.

Less than a day after moving up in the ranks, Catra was called to the Black Garnet Chamber. 

“Request a squadron transfer.”

The witch offered no explanation and no alternatives. The magicat would voluntarily leave the 509th Horde Squadron and be left to her own devices, or she would suffer the consequences. 

That same day Shadow Weaver assigned Catra to special detail in the infirmary, at which point the real torture began. 

\---

There was no room for error. There was no room for anything but the act, the character, the mask. Any deviation meant failure, and failure meant the unbearable. 

_Cold air upon her skin. Lightning forced into her veins._

She couldn’t think about that now. She couldn’t think about anything. She had to maintain character. Just the right smile, a little more sway of her hips, that special look in her eyes, it all had to be on script. 

_Her mouth broken and unable to scream._

Move slowly, but not hesitantly, let them take control. If they give a command follow it, otherwise appraise and act accordingly. If they have a wound avoid aggravating it at all costs. 

_Rough, cold hands tearing at her. Covering her. Choking her, beating her, caressing her._

She had to do it. There were no other options. She’d made her choice and this was the consequence, this was what she deserved for being bad.

_Growing, painful tension. A copy of Adora’s voice snarling in disgust._

But she couldn’t stop thinking. She was present for every moment, on high alert and analyzing every second. She had to keep fighting, to endure, to make it through this and every other session until she was free. When Adora made Force Captain this would all come to an end.

_That satisfied look in the witch’s eyes, and horrible, horrible release._

\---

_“P-please! M-mercy please!”_

She’d never said the words herself, she’d never had the opportunity. 

How many times would she have begged if she could?

But there was never any mercy to be found. Not in the _corrections_ and not in the act she performed to escape them. There was only ever more, obscuring that distant promise of freedom. 

She turned around to see the faun girl cowering in front of the wall of flames and debris. Small, vulnerable, unable to escape. 

Thaymor was freedom, Catra’s _last_ act of freedom, but even here the rules applied.

There was no mercy, there was only ever more.

\---

The conference room was silent. 

General Juliet had the courtesy to scowl at a wall. 

Glimmer hid her face in her arms and trembled intermittently.

Queen Angella had closed her eyes, her face an unreadable mask.

Turiel was partially hiding behind one of the queen’s arms, tears in her eyes.

Adora held onto Catra’s arm with both hands, her head bowed.

Catra hadn’t even noticed when she’d stopped talking. It was hard enough to believe that there could ever be an end to it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brain fried writing and uploading this one as well. Story ends on a happy note though, I promise.


	15. A Promise Fulfilled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With all cards now on the table it's time for Queen Angella to pass judgment on Catra for the attack on Thaymor and the assault of Turiel. Adora is in shock at finally knowing the full truth, but that wont stop her from supporting her friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No TW.
> 
> So here we are at the end of it. For now anyways. The authors note will be at the bottom.
> 
> Love was actually more of a challenge for me to write than suffering, but at the same time it was definitely more rewarding.

“Thank you for sharing that with us Catra, I know it couldn’t have been easy for you.”

Adora’s eyes were glued to the floor. _How was Queen Angella able to control her voice at a time like this?_ It felt like the second she moved even the slightest bit the floor would fly out from under her, leaving her tumbling through a never ending void of darkness and emotions. 

Catra didn’t reply, and Adora felt her grip on the magicat’s arm tighten. _There was so much there she didn’t know, things she wouldn’t have been able to even guess at._

Shadow Weaver might not have been able to keep Adora in the dark completely, but clearly Catra had. 

“Now that we have all heard what transpired in Thaymor and the conditions that led Catra to act as she did, I believe I am ready to pass judgment.”

_Judgment!? After everything they’d just heard!? How could the queen even think of adding to the magicat’s burden!? How could she possibly bear to sink Catra any lower!?_

Adora desperately wanted to raise her head and challenge the queen, to shout her down, maybe even invoke the sword again, but her body remained frozen in place. If she moved she was going to fall apart. 

“ _...I-I-! I don’t-!..._ ”

Turiel’s voice barely carried to Adora, the faun girl still half hidden behind the queen. Adora couldn’t see her face but she could hear the tears, fat and discordant as they ran down the girl’s face. Even as emotions raged in Adora’s own heart she couldn’t help but feel a deep sympathy for the faun girl. From a certain perspective Turiel seemed barely involved in this, the trial for her own assaulter. Catra would have gone after almost anyone in the state she’d been in, the faun girl had just been unfortunate enough to be that person.

“Mom...” Glimmer mumbled from behind her arms, “W-we can’t...” she trailed off, her body shaking briefly. 

“I promise you both that you have nothing to fear.” the queen offered gently, “I have no intention of adding to Catra’s pain, nor heaping regret upon anyone within this room. As I said from the start; I always wished for this trial to be dedicated to a restorative effort.”

A switch was flipped in Adora’s mind and she suddenly found herself looking up at the queen, the pounding of her heart slowing slightly. 

Angella closed her eyes again and drew in a deep breath.

“Catra shall be banned from setting foot inside the town of Thaymor until such a time as she is well enough to formally apologize to it’s citizens and contribute to their rebuilding effort. In the interim, she will be confined to Castle Brightmoon for her own safety, and be asked to attend therapy twice a week.”

Adora tensed.

“What’s therapy?” she challenged.

The queen opened her eyes and softened, deflating a bit in her seat as she gave the blond a weak smile.

“Talking.” Angella answered plainly, “Somewhere private, with a person who tries to help you. I believe you and Turiel might also benefit from such services.”

Adora blinked.

“Just talking?” she pressed.

“Just talking.” the queen reassured her, “Though the therapist, that is, the person you talk to who is trying to help you, might also assign you a mental exercise or form of self-reflection to practice. I understand it might sound strange to someone of your background, but, simply talking to someone and having them listen to how you feel, to reassure you that you will be alright, can do wonders for ones mental health.”

“Does...” Adora hesitated, “Does the person we talk to have to be...”

“I have already asked some sorcerers from Mystacor to come to Brightmoon to help ensure that we do not have another shadow incident.” the queen replied, “And I requested that a pair of therapists accompany them. If you are not comfortable with talking to either of them after they arrive then alternative arrangements will can made.”

Therapy. Adora tried to wrap her head around the idea. _Just talking? Like, sharing your emotions talking? Like she’d done with Catra?_ That... she wasn’t sure she would ever be comfortable doing that with anyone besides the magicat. Then again...

The blond’s gaze crept over from the queen to the catgirl in question. 

Catra had a distant look in her eyes. Not quite here, not quite somewhere else, maybe nowhere at all.

It was haunting.

After a moment the magicat’s gaze shifted to meet Adora’s and the two stared at each other. 

In the silence, the blond’s gaze asked a question, and the magicat’s stillness held an answer.

_“Why didn’t you tell me?”_

_“Because it hurt, and I didn’t want you to share that pain.”_

\---

Adora ended up carrying Catra back to her bedroom after the meeting. One arm under her knees, one arm around her back, the magicat’s head again tucked against the blonds chest. 

Neither of them had the appetite to go exploring, despite Catra’s new level of freedom. 

It was... what could they... where did she...

Adora didn’t even know where to begin processing. 

Catra had always been so vibrant, so alive! The magicat was always the one to suggest an adventure, to take risks and to show up to training late. How did she reconcile that with the girl in her arms, the victim?

_She’d seen the bruises, seen the burns, how had she never put all this together?_

Her thoughts boomed and crashed like waves in a turbulent sea, constantly over taking each other in a maelstrom of guilt and questions with no good answers. 

_How could she have let this happen?_

Slowly, she moved to put Catra down on the bed, nearly overbalancing with the effort to make sure the magicat was gently laid out. 

That done she began to pull away but a clawed hand shot out and caught Adora’s wrist.

“I’m sorry.”

At almost any other time in her life, those words spoken in that voice would have made Adora flinch or panic. Now though, she just sighed and sank into the bed beside the magicat.

“It’s alright Catra.” the blond replied wearily, “It’s alright.”

The magicat flinched, then grabbed the blond’s other wrist.

“No, it’s not!” Catra shouted, shaking her head, “Never say that when it isn’t true! I should have told you from the start! I never should have kept you in the dark and I never should have left you!”

Adora tore her hands free from the magicat’s grip and gabbed the girl by the shoulders.

“I get it!” she pressed back, “I finally listened Catra, and I get it!”

The magicat’s mismatched eyes pulled back in terror.

Adora took a breath and sighed, letting her inner turmoil simmer back down.

“I get it.” she repeated, almost resigned, “You were in love with me, and Shadow Weaver hurt you for it... I never stopped to realize that I was in love with you to, and that Shadow Weaver was driving us apart... so you never opened up... and when things got to hard you just had to escape... even if it meant...”

She let the silence linger for a moment as she trailed off.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for Catra... not to me.”

Slowly, the magicat snaked her arms around the blond’s, placing her hands on her friend’s shoulders in turn and pulling them closer together. 

“You would have saved me...” Catra whispered, “You would have fought off the entire Horde just like I fought off Thaymor... all those years... I could have just told you at anytime... and then it would have been us against the world...”

“We would have lost.” the blond replied quietly, taking the magicat’s head under her chin, “I would have failed you, and then Shadow Weaver would have punished me, and then I’d never have gotten to see the real you... the girl strong enough to survive all this... who fell in love with me...”

Catra pulled her head back to looked Adora in the eyes. Both the blond and the magicat were exhausted, regardless of the early hour, and while neither of them were near tears each carried sadness in their gaze. 

Then Catra leaned in, and took Adora’s lips in her own.

It was bitter, and it was sweet, and it was magic. An old yearning finally sated, a new hope finally fed. A kiss.

The kiss grew, and deepened, and when the pair finally broke apart gasping for breath they did so in each others arms, their grips having shifted subconsciously at the contact. 

The kiss lacked the fire and the passion common in most youthful romance, but each girl poured their heart and their pain and their love into it, a confession to themselves and to each other. 

Catra retreated. 

_She wasn’t doing this right, she had to let the patient lead, make them comfortable, those were the rules._

_This wasn’t a patient, this was Adora, things were different._

_She had to follow the act. Even if she was smart about breaking the rules Shadow Weaver would find a way to screw her, just like she had with Scorpia. The act was safe, it’s what Shadow Weaver wanted._

They were treacherous, bitter thoughts, honed into instincts through brutal reinforcement, but even recognizing them as such Catra struggled to fight them. 

_Follow the rules or face_ correction _._

_There was no_ correction _here, she was in Brightmoon._

Adora’s hand found it’s way to the magicat’s cheek, ripping Catra away from her thoughts.

“Hey.” the blond whispered, “It’s alright. You’re okay.”

Bile rose up in the back of the magicat’s throat.

“Don’t!” she hissed, her claws suddenly piercing the mattress beneath them, “D-Don’t say that! It-! I-I-!”

Catra trembled for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut. 

“I always said ‘it’s alright’, e-even when it wasn’t. I don’t-! Please don’t say that!” 

The blond’s grip tightened around her.

“I love you Catra.” she whispered, “I love you and I want to hold you and kiss you, and I promise that I’ll tell you when I want to stop, or when I don’t like what’s happening. You never have to worry about me saying ‘it’s alright’ when it isn’t.”

Catra shook again but took the promise, leaning in for another kiss. 

Unlike her last ‘patient’, Adora’s hands knew exactly what they wanted, slipping beneath the magicat’s uniform with a familiar comfort. They ran across Catra’s sides and down her back like sailboats gliding across the ocean, leaving ripples in their wake. Their touch was not hungry or greedy or spiteful like so many others had been, but rather seemed to worship the canvas they danced upon, gentle kisses in their own right. 

Catra felt a wave of peace wash over her unlike any time before as she found herself reciprocating Adora’s touch. That part of her mind that had always been active before was quiet now, the constant analysis filtering through her head going silent. 

Hands moved fabric out of the way as the pair exchanged more kisses, their bodies melting into each others touch. It was natural. Comfortable. Instinctive. 

The scales fell away. 

Catra was in love with Adora, and Adora loved her back. A perfect dream, an impossible miracle. A loving truth. 

\---

The light of the mid-day moon gently filtered into the room, a light, rosy, pastel pink that complimented the colours of Brightmoon.

It was warm here. There was a warmth in the air that never could have existed in the Fright Zone. It was too soft, too caring, all too personal and fulfilling to have survived the harsh industrial landscape. It was a warmth of companionship, true companionship, not some bastardized fling born of hatred and desperation. Like the breath of the girl beside her, the air was warm and comforting.

Adora didn’t bother pretending to be asleep this time, though she supposed this time was quite a bit different than the last time they’d woken up together. Catra’s body felt loose against hers, the age-old rigidity and tension still there, deep down, but at least momentarily forgotten. 

_Well, I guess we are lovers now._ She mused. _Catra and Adora of the rebellion._

It was surreal, being able to just lie there with the magicat in her arms, no morning alarm, no training schedule, no witch lurking around the corner. If this was a dream then it was one she hoped to never wake up from, though as the bundle of fur began to rub against her again she became pretty confident that this joy was all too real. 

\---

Glimmer paced on the terrace in front of the castle, Bow sitting nearby fiddling with one of his trick arrows. 

_This was good, right? Right. Everyone was getting therapy, Adora and Catra were safe, and her mother had even sent humanitarian aid to Thaymor to help them get back on their feet. So why did she feel like she was forgetting something? The trial should have checked all the boxes as far as she was concerned. Justice for Turiel, mercy for Catra, and the full truth for everybody present, so what was missing?_

“Uhh, Glimmer?” the archer called.

“Not now Bow! I’m thinking!”

_Catra would formally apologize to the citizens of Thaymor when she wasn’t on the verge of a mental breakdown, that stipulation was a no-brainer, what else could there be?_

“Glimmer, seriously-!”

“Just a second Bow!”

_Punishment? Catra didn’t deserve punishment. Well, mostly sorta. The apology and the help rebuilding would be the punishment, and again, that would be after the magicat got better._

_**“Glimmer!”** _

The princess spun on her heel to glare at her friend.

“Oh my moons Bow! What!?”

Bow pointed, prompting Glimmer to spin around again.

Walking up the palace steps, a guard’s head pinned under a pincered arm, another guard dragging at the woman’s leg, and a few more halfheartedly trailing after her clutching various bruises and sprains, was a white haired mountain of a scorpioni in a Horde uniform. 

Glimmer yelped, stumbling backwards before quickly conjuring sparkles in her fists.

“Hey!” the woman called, dropping the guard she had pinned and kicking off the one clutching her leg, “Are you the princess of Brightmoon?”

Glimmer charged down the steps screaming a battle cry.

\---

Scorpia raised her arms in surrender and side-stepped the girl’s wild punch.

“Woah! Hey! Wait a minute!” she shouted, “I don’t want to fight you!”

The girl didn’t stop, instead recovering her footing and charging Scorpia again, this time from close range. 

A sparkling fist collided with the scorpioni’s chest, forcing her to take a step back from the magic augmented blow, but at the same time the princess stumbled, clutching her hand.

“What are you made of!?” the girl spat, squeezing her now bruised fist under one arm.

“Oh, well, you know, scorpioni carapace and stuff.” Scorpia laughed weakly before quickly remembering her concern, “Listen, I know how this might look and sound, but did you guys rescue Catra okay?”

That got the princess to stop.

\---

Glimmer narrowed her eyes aggressively. 

“Oh what,” she spat, re-entering her fighting stance, “You the Horde’s next attempt to finish her off?”

The scorpioni shook her head vigorously.

“No! Nuh-uh! Never! But I need to apologize to her if she’s here, it’s important!”

_“Apologize?”_ Glimmer asked disbelievingly.

Suddenly this was starting to feel like the Whispering Woods all over again. 

“Yeah!” the woman half-shouted, “I overhead some of the officers talking yesterday about Catra and her work in the infirmary and a mission to recapture her and it made me realize that I did something really really _really_ bad to her and that I needed to apologize and that the Horde were the bad guys and that I should join the Princess Alliance instead!”

Glimmer blinked, Bow stepping up beside her as she processed the scorpioni’s ramble. 

“Join the-!” she started, “The Princess Alliance is for princesses!” she shouted.

“I know!” the woman replied, “I’m Princess Scorpia! Well, I’m not a ruler or anything, but I’m still technically a princess!”

“Princess-!” Glimmer face palmed. 

“Yeah!” the woman continued, “I was raised in the Horde and told that we were doing good work but then I got wounded and met Catra and I thought everything was alright but then it turned out that Shadow Weaver was actually making Catra work in the infirmary to punish her and-!”

Glimmer stopped listening to what the woman was saying, instead burying her face deeper in her hands.

This was not how she envisioned recruiting her first princess to the alliance would go.

Still, it was a start, and maybe for now, that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors note:
> 
> So I've mention a few times that this was the end of 'the first arc'. Realistically you could probably break up this story into three arcs, the Fright Zone, Thaymor, and Brightmoon, so let me clarify. 
> 
> This story ends here. 
> 
> There might one day be a sequel to it, if you are an aspiring writer go ahead and continue where I left off with your own stories, but I'm hanging up my hat for now. I had never planned for this story to be a real story, it was a one-shot that came to me in a dream after reading a different one-shot. Then my brain wouldn't let me sleep until I wrote a second chapter and we were off to the races from there. 
> 
> If, and I do mean 'if', I end up writing more then it'll probably be in it's own thing with a new name and this'll be part 1. But don't get your hopes up. The truth is that my writing energy has been winding down since chapter 9, and like my name says my inspiration comes sporadically. 
> 
> Writing is a weird hobby. You say things but your voice is warped by pen and paper and you don't get to see the other people involved. That said it's always been an important hobby to me, allowing me to better understand what I'm trying to say and trying to show. Emotions are weird, love is weird, characters are weird, dialogue is weird, etcetera. Writing is a way to confront all that.
> 
> And now I'm rambling.
> 
> Well anyways, I hope you enjoyed, as dark and misery filled as this story was. Again I would encourage people to try their own ideas, to explore and express their own feelings, to write and be engrossed by the weirdness. 
> 
> If you have something big you want to talk to me about invite me to a collaboration or something, leave a special comment, idk. I don't want any of my personal details online but I'm not above being tempted to something.

**Author's Note:**

> I would again like to apologies for the treatment of Catra. 
> 
> Comment moderation is on to prevent potential creepy comments due to the stories dark themes.


End file.
